Beneath the skin of the universe, there is a sanctuary woven with threads of silence. Whispers echo softly,
like the soft breathing of a sleeping giant.
Your name, drawn in stardust...
Comfort comes not from what we see with our eyes, but from what we allow ourselves to hear in the stillness.
The voices murmur in forgotten languages, spinning tales meant only for those lost in reverie.
Across the abyss, shadows carry whispers...
You sit beside the ethereal fire whose flames do not burn, yet provide warmth to a chilly heart.
Remember to listen, for the comfort you seek is rarely found in the clamor of day, but in the deep reaches
of night where stars speak and cosmos sigh.
Listen again for the echoes that guide steps to unseen shores.
Perhaps there is truth in the shadows, where light does not dare tread.
The breeze carries more than just air; it whispers potential, dreams, and destiny.
Breathe in the essence of what is not there, for absence has a scent all its own, lingering like old memories
that refuse to fade.
Embrace the flickering comfort of the void, where everything and nothing await.