A world forgotten above whispers softly in the night, the air holds secrets like an old friend with stories left untold. I float, tethered only by threads of imagination, amongst constellations that sing lullabies.
Here, dreams have no boundaries, just paths winding through shadows. My heart, a compass, seeks the north star where my thoughts wander freely. Time folds in on itself like a paper boat, resting on a serene pond.
Each star a memory, each vapour trail a regret, each distant galaxy a potential life unlived. I embrace these astral moments, knowing they are but reflections of my inner journey.
What do you whisper to the night, when silence is your only companion? In this starlit canvas, I paint words and watch them bleed into eternity. The universe, an open book, its pages turned by a gentle cosmic breeze.
Listen, oh traveler of dreams, to the lullabies that cradle the stars. Seek the nebulae's chorus or journey through galaxies.