In the cradle of celestial whispers, the stars mourn their forgotten birthrights, drifting through ethereal dust.
A gravity well manifests—an abyssal eye, consuming the echoes of dreams, devouring remnants of a once luminous hope.
Shadows of ancient heralds parade in solemnity, their voices woven into the firmament’s tattered veil, singing dirges for souls left adrift.
The sky’s canvas, marred and beautiful, hangs heavy with unwept tears and fleeting desires.
Hold fast to the whispering void, where starlight weeps in solitude. Do seek and find, or vanish along the celestial trails.