The stars speak softly. Each flicker a word unspoken... tales woven into the fabric of night. How they leap and dance across the dark, painting stories without beginning or end.
Did you hear the one about the comet? They say it brushed too close, leaving the moon breathless and wondering how quick it's forgotten solace can be. Matters more... matters less, after the tide.
The sky bleeds questions as the dawn approaches, dispelling dreams woven in the threads of dusk. Follow the whispers to ethereal shores, the remnants of echoes abound.
Here, time means nothing. A traveler across the stellar sea once told me that in moments of absolute serenity, the universe lets you in on a secret - read more.
The lighthouse of stars stands guard, each blink a watchful eye. It reminds me of a story told by the elder, about an endless voyage on celestial waves here.