Within the nucleus of our deepest whispers under starlit skies, lies a whispered truth waiting for silence to break. The shadows peel gently, revealing layers of thought.
Is there a reflection more significant than the echo beneath the silvery glow? The questions curve like lunar craters, bite-size but needing time to digest.
Awake in dreams, they breathe the night, crystallizing into particles of memory hidden between cosmic dust. Do we recognize their shadow when the day ends?
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Or pause, Embrace the Void