Starlight flickers, an ancient murmuration casting shadows in the stillness of night. Upward gazes echo the cry, where minds stretch to decipher divine syllables written upon the sky. The cosmos speaks in forgotten dialects, language wrapped in the riddles of suns extinguished aeons ago.
The winds sing back those orations, or so the wanderers whisper.
The glyphs etched upon the void.
Surreal musings translate not across empty chasms nor through veils of galaxy dust. Yet still, they form in the echo of nebulous sangfroid, like silence deafened by its own enormity.
