The galactic whispers murmur,
as footsteps dance on dissonant trails.
Each stride splices the veil of time —
and the palaces of stardust tremble.
Hear the old voices ringing,
in the corridors of forgotten realms,
where every step etches stories
upon the slate of night.
An astral sea lingers uncharted,
its waves shimmering like distant thoughts.
Comets take flight, scraping the horizon
with brushes of luminescent memory.
In those celestial chambers,
peace is a fleeting visitor,
wine is spilled across ancient stones,
where the echoes breathe —
sweet resounding, astral refrains.
Seek the serenade
that hums beneath Jupiter’s gaze;
the whispers
of the meteoric ballet.
Lost in stellar sighs,
we find our trajectory altered by adrift echoes.