The universe speaks in whispers, not in grand epics, but in the quiet hum of cosmic winds.
Across the void, stars flicker like distant beacons, each a horizon lost in light years.
Do they remember where they began, these celestial wanderers? Or are they content in their wanderlust?
Perhaps in the morning light of a new solar dawn, we might find the answers hidden in their glow.
In the heart of dark space, nebulae bloom like forgotten dreams, painting the void in colors unseen by day.
Their beauty is transient, a reminder of the fleeting nature of all things.
We are but stardust, scattered by the winds of time, seeking solace in the shadows of the past.