The stars sang a dirge, a cacophony of celestial echoes. Jupiter's rumble, like a drumbeat in the void, while Saturn spun its rings, a symphony of glass and ice, shattering into notes that danced among the dark.
Nebulas whispered secrets, colors bleeding into sound, as waves of light crashed against the shores of time. A crescendo of quasar harmonies, bending the fabric of space with their furious serenade.
And there, in the silence between universes, the melancholic waltz of black holes, singing of beginnings and the end, of worlds forgotten and dreams unformed.
We are but listeners,
wandering through echoes of what was and what may never be.
Whispers of the Void
Dances of the Constellations