In the folds of night's canopy, a soft murmur carries the weight of untold epochs. Stars, hung in their celestial vase, weep molten wisdom that drips slowly into the void. Where civilizations once thrived, now only pixels of ancient dust move, scattered across the universal loom, a tapestry both finished and forever unwinding.
Do stars remember, their light a weak Morse against the cosmic static? Or is each flicker a forgotten epiphany lost in repetition, serving no audience but the eternal watchers? Echoes linger, reverberating in a world divorced from time, collecting the forlorn notes of forgotten songs.
Explore Hidden Worlds The Oblivion's Whisper