Starlight drips—like forgotten ink upon ancient parchment, words etched in the language of comets. The universe exhales, and with each breath, a new realm unfurls, a tapestry woven in black silk and twinkling gold. Are we the dancers upon a looping melody, the rhythms of our souls mirrored in supernovae? The void speaks in riddles, its voice a symphony of silence echoing through the void. Follow the rhythm or become part of the song.
Moonbeams reflect on the surface of thought, where waves of consciousness ripple outward, inward, and again, circling like birds in the twilight sky. Everything comes back—every thought, every dream left unsaid, becomes a looping note in a celestial opera. Can you hear the murmur? Listen closer and unravel the strings of time.
In this timeless realm, echoes of the cosmos chant their eternal prayers. The stars are looms, weaving destinies into constellations that guide and mislead, all at once. Shall you join the dance or find solace in stillness?