The sounds of silence climbed the fallen stars' backs,
rising like whispers from the lips of shadows,
an ancient hymn echoing from untamed recesses.
Above the ruins, a melody woke the stars,
weaving through clouds of midnight embroidery,
blossoming like nightshade under resting moons.
And so it began, this fragile symphony,
woven from silence, spun through darkened threads,
composed only by the impatient heart of dreams.
As the sphere rises, so too does the echo,
forever unraveling the notes of rare tapestry.