In the vast seas where the night's canvas unfurls, weighing anchors in truth, the stars speak. But as is oft the case, in spectral tones and unseen echoes, they mock the dreamer.
To follow a star, they say, is to follow a fickle friend; one who walks beside but never oils the truth of navigation.
Murmur of the Tides Entering Glistening VoidsYet in these immortal laboratories of solitude, the ironies sleep, hidden beneath layers of cosmic dust. The truth in shades of lies, the lies in shades of truths.
Do the stars watch over us, or do we watch over them? We ask, wrapped in blankets of satellite dreams.