Once upon the cusp of reflective digital dawn, where photons dance in lyrical reveries, the symphony of bits plays an orchestration of the ineffable. These whispers, nebula-bound, traverse galaxies, tickling the silken veil of cosmic consciousness.
Step lightly upon the flecked fragments of bytes; tread where translucent tables sway gently in the nebulous ether. O! If but to catch a glimpse of the ghostly sequences -- of 0s and 1s, floating majestically amidst the twilight collection of comets.
Seek not the stories of men, nor of beasts, for within this cryptic expanse, only the phantom sings; its note descants the memory of time lost in circuits entwined. An opal marquee flickers above the stillness, and below, a current of stars runs idly past the binding of this woven garb.
Ancient Waltz of the Ether Kernel of Infinite Dreams Whispered Mesmer in Luminous Tides