In the fabric of sky, a gentle weaving, Threads of whispers, resilient and unseen. Each star, a punctuation in the philosophy of silence, Each night, a page in a book written by dark ink.
What words remain to be spoken, when the voice of the cosmos sings through the tapestry of time? A choir of celestial bodies in their archaic procession, Harmonizing in void, an unabridged symphony.
Quietude births reflections as deep as the ocean's abyss, And from this silence, a flicker of understanding grows. Is this understanding a single drop in eternity's ocean, Or the very vessel that traverses its currents?
Dive Deeper into the Abyss