Am I the echo, fading into the void out here? Somewhere between the nebula of dreams, drifting, yearning - the cosmos murmurs. Sensing the warmth of memories not my own yet woven into the remnants of a phantom touch, guiding the past felt now by nameless fingertips tracing lines of constellations.
I walk silent paths along the starry shores, where celestial grains of ethereal dust settle like stories untold yet familiar. Pathways illuminated by the luminescent glow of unspoken words linger in the interstitial silence.
Between breaths, when the universe exhales, I catch glimpses of what was, or what could have been. Traces of an unseen journey guide my spectral self across the nightscape. Here, presence is defined by absence, a shadow of what lingers.
Memories of reflected glances in translucent waters unravel as a tapestry above, ambitiously charting a course through stardust sprinkled echoes, where every step reverberates with histories lost in the astral ether.
Follow this wandering mind further, through constellations unnamed: Constellation and
Song of the Abyss.