In the quiet cradles between celestial bodies,
where time does not tick or pause, there resides
an echo that holds no source, yet speaks with clarity.
This is the realm of murmurs in the fabric of stars,
unraveling tales older than light itself.
I am the silence, woven through cosmic thread,
a canvas for thoughts scattered like dust in the nebulae.
Here, memories of gravity's embrace linger,
vanishing slowly, silently, like the last breath of a galaxy.
When the void whispers, it speaks in colors unseen,
in frequencies unheard by the ears of mortals,
yet understood by the heart of wandering souls.
For those, wandering, anchored by dreams,
the embrace of the void is reminiscent of home.