In the vastness, where echoes find their destination, what remains unsaid? The cosmos hums a lullaby, notes of solitude cradling the silence. Am I a whisper cradled by a star's gentle sigh? Here, I am neither lost nor found, a fragment of the gentle cosmic breath.
The nebula's cradle rocks, a soft embrace of infinite hues, murmurings of the void. We are but dreamers in a waking cosmos, the stars' secret serenade playing on repeat in the stillness. Silent witnesses, the galaxies watch with ancient eyes, void of time, void of fear.
An astral journey does not begin at the edge but in the silent heart of the unknown. Is there a map carved in stardust that leads us home? Or do we wander, eyes upward, searching for the whispers to guide our dreams?
Find more whispers in the cosmic tapestry: Whispers | Murmurs | Interlude