In the silence of nebular breaths, where time stretches like the wings of a dormant phoenix, whispers of ancient orbits collide in a galactic balderdash.
Telepathic echoes interlace with the fabric of forgotten constellations. Each glimmer, a note in the symphony of the unseen cosmos, where melodies echo in frequencies unheard.
Dreams adrift on streams of stardust, floating through the crevices of space's embrace. Void, Lumen, Beyond.
Hear the clamor, the gentle vituperation of cosmic winds. They speak in languages woven in the loom of creation. Do you remember the horizon?
Each star, a universe of unspoken words, a library of thoughts drifting through the ether. The chronicle is everlasting.