The midnight sky, a canvas of whispers, unveils a dim glow, a flex of forgotten stars.
In the heart of night, where echoes cease, a hollow song sings of solitude.
From the inked abyss, shadows weave tales of stars, lost to the weaving winds.
Boundless twilights stretch, as silent luminaries thread through the endless dark.
Beneath the spectral moon, secrets linger, unspoken, until the dawn of time.
Fleeting shadows dance, eclipsing the once-distant glow of the melancholic stars.
As stars flicker, the astral tapestry wanes, folding the silence into night anew.