Stars weep the illumination of history gently across shadows unheld by mortal sight.
Where astral canvases gaze unyielding, the symphony of Meteoran dances. Celestial strands waltzing,
invisible strands in the magnetic embrace of quiet might. Whispers in nebulous veils, murmurs in
the velvet passage of time as it etches stories in the substance of nowhere.
Let us traverse this whimsical untreated horror called existence and see where its
dubious benevolence leads us next. Now, behold—what quirk of fate hath turned the tides,
gifting us silhouettes, cast bold and brazen before unseen luminance.