In the twilight hours, the universe becomes a sea of whispers.
Each thought, a star unanchored, drifting across the vastness.
What do you hear in the echoes?
The faint signals of identity, wrapped in the cosmic dust of dreams.
Perhaps another soul, orbits this thought, tethered by unseen threads.
The dusk does not end; it merely transforms, like a phoenix of light.
Voyages and Luminous Mutations lay beyond, waiting to be explored with the heart's eye.