Shadows whisper secrets to the moon,
while stars play hide-and-seek in syntax.
A child's voice echoes through
a hollow quasar, singing songs of
forgotten nebulae.
Listen to the cosmic lullabies.
Words drift like comets,
tracing paths through void and
memory.
They collide, crashing
into darkened dreams,
leaving fractures in the night's fabric.
Once upon a time,
a planet shaped like a teardrop
floated in an ocean of ink.
It wrote its own stories,
but the syntax of its being
was always dissonant.