Within the nebulous embrace of a dormant whisper lies the rhythmic pulse of a cosmic dance. Stars murmur tales in age-old tongues, woven by the silken threads of time. Each twinkle a note, a solemn serenade echoing into the boundless arcane.
An unseen breeze, pregnant with the essence of forgotten aeons, caresses the entangled veils of what is and what might be. Listen, dear traveler; the universe speaks in sighs and shadows, painting your existence upon the vast canvas dipped in night.