We are all stardust, threaded by whims of forgotten hands, weaving galaxies in intricate dance. Each spark that perishes in silence births a new universe within our solemn souls. The cosmos echoes an ancient lullaby - one sung by the sighs of empty voids.
The stars, scattered like specks of sand across an infinite shore, whisper quietly when night falls. They speak in tongues of brilliance and shadow, of past and future bound in an eternal embrace, a cycle repeating, a tale unfolding.
Journeys introduced by celestial winds cast paths through time - where moments linger, whispers linger, echoing within seashells of forgotten planetesimals. In imagining, they tell stories of trek and wander, of sojourns across nebulous sprightliness.
final thought