The stars whisper amongst themselves when the world is quiet. They tell stories of long forgotten tales. Stories that build upon time and stretch through dimensions. Their voices blend, collapse and collide, brushing realities, molding dreams.
The stars, keepers of the universe. The watchmen of the night. They hold the secrets of nations. But what would they tell you if you ask? Are the layers of truth easily accessible? Or would they hide and rearrange themselves as the night moves to dawn?
The stars, collectors of infinite intel. The radical and the mundane alike, all seen through the eyes of a dark night.
The stars do not forget. Memories find a home across the sky. Finding a place to land as the night comes to an end. The stars do not give in. The night is uninterrupted, blazing the path through the galaxies watching the stories unfold. The stars do not forgive. What is done is done. Underneath them, lies never find peace and truth burns bright.
The stars do set the stage. Placing a spotlight on the here and now. While building the scenery for each scene. The stars do curate a space for dreams that dare to be different. The stars do create. They take what they are given and build novels in the shadows.
The stars whisper amongst themselves when the world is quiet. They tell stories of long forgotten tales. Stories that build upon time and stretch through dimensions. Their voices blend, collapse and collide, brushing realities, molding dreams.
Back to Home