In this expanse without bounds, I float aimlessly, tethered only by whispers of existence. Stars, distant and cold, blink in and out—much like moments once cherished, now gone to dust.

The void speaks in echoes of memory—a recollection of warmth, laughter, perhaps love—muffled by millennia and the weightlessness of solitude. Here, beneath the cosmic tapestry, I seek understanding.

Ponder the cosmos, and what do you find but endless reflections of our human folly? Planets dance in their gravitational pirouettes, each lost in their own waltz, just as we are in ours.

Echoes of Silence
Drifting through Dreams
Whispers in the Void