The star-tangled canopy whispers secrets—
an ancient song woven into the fabric of the night,
muted echoes of civilizations
cradled in the cradle of void and time.
Listen. Each glimmer speaks in tongues
of dreams that were, of futures becoming.
Astral fingers trace the forgotten
pathways of a past woven through
ethereal threads in silence's embrace.
Trace these whispers
and unearth the lore spun by cosmic weavers.
Interstellar winds carry the stories
of forsaken souls, resting in the gentle
cradle of the cosmic womb. Their stories,
lost until we spoke their names,
inhale their essence, breathe
the nebulous truths they left behind.
Beyond the horizon, where
time unfurls its chrysanthemum petals
toward eternity's sultry sigh,
lies the true essence of life,
a forgotten lullaby echoing through
the infinitesimal spaces between us.
Whisper softly, for the stars remember.