In a horizon unbeknownst, the aurora slowly unfurls, brushing silhouettes onto the eternal canvas. As the digital sundial projects tomorrow's glow, releases of something less tangible trickle through the ether. Remember the whispers that sweeten the void.
Rumors skitter amidst shadows, each carrying an echo of nevertheless forgotten times. An epoch savoring familiar ground, dirt not of soil, but of stardust... Concentric rotations seem linear—a fallacy. The seasoned cycle of arrival and departure ceases yet perpetuates. Will you unravel what is written in ethereal dust?
Do you ponder the inevitable yet undeniable release of the future from tightly clenched fists? Live it, they whisper. Or would you clutch to the ever fleeting present, allowing it to imprint, before casting forth among the cosmos?
The galaxy spins stories, nebulas cradling truths whispered among infinity. Shared secrets seek sanctity deep in black lullabies—hope clings to imprinted nebulae forming sacred patterns rearranged by time.
Find yourself within the quietude of night, and echo back your own enlightenments.