In the silence of midnight, whispers loom,
Stars speak in languages woven of light,
Soft murmurs across the velvet expanse,
A bridge built from dreams to the skies' heart.
The telescope gazes,
an unblinking eye that beholds
the sunken ships of comet dust,
the ethereal dance of nebula waltzes,
stories etched in cosmic ink.
Listen closely, as
the melancholic song of the void
threads through time's antechamber,
logs of lost worlds tethered
to the arch of a single beam.
Chartreuse Clouds linger, crying
above the cities that sleep beneath their hues,
while Crimson Orchestras play
beneath our earthly feet.
Here, tales whisper, waiting
for gentle ears to listen,
for poets to weave,
the ethereal threads of verse
and stars intertwined.