Nebula Conversations

Carried in the breeze of solar whispers, a sunlight couldn't contain the rhythm of time, spiralling inwards like a dormant thought waking to the ticking of unseen clocks, the whispering echoes of supernova dreams chart eventualities unimagined.

When cascades of color shift, nebulous patterns reveal trails of forgotten paths, the drawings of constellations, secrets hidden in ancient dust where gravity warps, longing for the entanglements of souls separated by light years and chance.

Infinite, a term swelled beyond human measure. Fingertips caressing the edge of understanding—time splits like valleys in a much-worn mind— where accomplishment is gazing intently into eternity's mirror. Holograms dancing with shadows, under amber revelations.