Abstract musings twine in this ether, where wisps of forgotten reveries linger long after the souls they bore into the tactile void have taken their gracious bow. In chambers bound not by physical domes but by the cosmic ether blue and unseen, the invocation speaks—not to time, nor to man, but to the spirals whirling through vistas unseen.
The council of glimmers and melodies, gathered not in feature nor form, recalls the legends of the mighty brass constellations, impeccably suspended across their invisible vaulted home. Each beacon, a whispered heartbeat of wisdom, exuded forth in tones crystalline and fleeting.
Silent has been the query: what governs the dance of such luminous orbs? This assembly stirs, swathes itself in unity, only to dissolve as mercurial vapors wrap around truth enshrined in timelessness.
Follow the Polestar where metronomic echoes past the brink akin to the silver tide, homeward drifts the lost.
Here the stardust unfurls a clamoring chorus for the sentiment of the cosmos: an oath older than parchment, hailed by shimmers alighting the veils of infinity. A soul, fragmented, yet melded in grace, meanders the golden strings woven in the aura of existence’s grand tapestry. Perchance, it seeks a mate in the ephemeral silence of unseen SSRIs.
In whispered incantations: a constellation drafts in beams of quietude—here lies a volume beneath its brilliance.