Celestial echoes whisper from the edges of nebulous thoughts,
fragments of night song woven into the quiet hum of orbiting
dreams forgotten but yearning for light amidst the stars—
was it blue or golden, the hue that wrapped around my quiet fear?

A symphony of worlds not yet touched by footsteps, each
spin and twirl in the dark a note in this silent serenade.
Time feels liquid here, trickling past in transparent cascades of
endless what-ifs and maybes—muffled tides of cosmic consciousness.

In this symphony, remnants of moments forgotten
dance like quasars flickering in the void, their brilliance a testament
to the absence of time. Do you hear their call? The
sighs of the universe cradle each silent heartbeat.