In the silent whisper of the cosmos, where shadows weave light into a tapestry beyond sight,
the stars draw circles, labyrinths of luminescence.
Constellations are dreams glossing over the void's skin, pulsating softly, singing humanity's lullaby.
Nebulas breathe slowly, their gaseous auras cloaked in ethereal beauty,
morphing ancient fire into new realms.
Each comet is a thought unbound, sailing freely along paths laid in stardust,
ink upon a celestial parchment where the universe chronicles its rhapsodies.
Seek the endless corridors,
labyrinths woven between the twinkling gloss.
Stand amid fragments anchored to nothing,
listening to tales untold by the radiant maze.