In the slumber of the universe, I drift, a particle of thought among vanishing stars. Here, the eternal dances in whispers, weaving a tapestry of darkness and light. There lies a rhythm in the silence, a cosmic heartbeat pulsing through the void. I wonder on the edge of daylight’s embrace, how many planets cradle dreams as I do?
Nebulae stretch their fingers across the cosmos, conducting an orchestra of celestial winds. The moon, a distant guardian, watches over lost kings of forgotten realms. Are they real, these tales woven from stardust, or an echo of dreams that slipped through the seams of time?
Beyond the grasp of our reach, the galaxies slumber. If only I could understand your whispered secrets, dear universe—a language beyond our frail human tongue. Reality bends here, breaks and spills, a potion to the gods resting in the nebula's breath.
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