Whispered promises echo through the ages,
written in the language of celestial bodies.
Each star a syllable,
each constellation a verse,
weaving the tapestry of ancient dreams.
I wandered through the night,
tracing the lines of stardust sculpted upon the sky,
longing for the touch of your hand,
as delicate as the wistful breeze,
“What song does the universe sing?” I wondered,
The kind of song that bends time,
that embraces the soul with a lover's warmth.
And you, a shadow in the cosmos,
dancing to the rhythm of endless galaxies.
In every heartbeat, the universe concedes,
and echoes the patterns of stardust in your name.