The Quirks of the Cosmic Canvas

Stars whisper secrets scrawled on the fabric of space,
their luminescent ink trails a dance of timeworn sighs.
The void hums a soft lullaby,
cradling celestial whims beneath a blanket of velvet night.

Through the cosmos, a comet dreams of silent echoes—
its tail a fleeting brushstroke of golden memory.
Galaxies twirl in an eternal waltz,
pirouetting in stardust serenades.

Time is a poet,
etching verses in the spiral arms of the nebulae,
each quirk a stanza, each quark a rhyme,
in the symphony of the cosmos' heart.

And we, wanderers of the void, search for ephemeral dreams,
scattered like grains of cosmic sand.
In the shadowed corners of eternity,
we find truths wrapped in starlit whispers.

There lies a universe within—a mirage of illusions—
a kaleidoscope of quirks woven into the tapestry of time.
Echoes and quirks;
a cosmic rhyme lost in the void's embrace.