Stars, those ancient fools of the universe, sing a silent opera in a language both arcane and familiar. Their voices, composed of light and gravity, reverberate through the ether in a cosmic sonnet that mirrors our own earthly serenades.
To discern the melodies of the stars is to embrace a realm beyond earthly comprehension. Much like a bird's song captured in glass, the celestial aria is boundless and ethereal.
Stars do not sing for us, yet we listen, hoping to find our hymn intertwined in their balletic revolutions. The echoes traverse ages, resembling the fragmented voice in a funhouse mirror — warped yet truthful.
The cosmic symphony, ever unfinished, prompts the stars to share their twilight wisdom with those of us who dwell upon the fragile earth.