In the cradle of the eternal void, where whispers of forgotten supernovae linger like remnants of tender dreams, the silence unfolds its symphony—an aria sung by the celestial streams. Each note a glimmer of lost history, entwined in the gentle waltz of tumbling meteors and the soft glide of shimmering comets.
Here, the galactic tides reshape the narratives threaded into the very fabric of night. Stars, embers of stories unspoken, wink pale gossamer secrets veiled by the vast womb of darkness. The xylophone of the cosmos plays from the orchestra of atom's breath, a score only heartbeats can perceive.
Behind every silence rests a not yet unsung elegy of the stars; the instrumentation of life breathing between the shimmering vastness. Would the moon, silvered guardian of night's depth, whistle this tune in midnight's serenity?