Once, when the universe cawed in colors unseen,
she stood on the brink, gazing into the sprawling abyss.
"What are you?" she asked, but the void,
it only echoed her voice into a harmony of silence.
They say the void dreams in fractals,
weaving the stories of stars that were and will be.
In their tendrils lie the winds of Saturn,
folding dimensions like cloth around nebulous thoughts.
A spiral, a wink, a cosmic swirl—
wander here or listen,
for the void reflects those who dare to peer.
Does it see you as you see it? Or is that a question
answered only by time lost to the void’s embrace?