Ink and Stardust

In the quiet of celestial nights,

Where ink spills across the cosmic canvas,

I dip my quill into stardust,

And write stories that dance with purpose.

Each word a constellation,

A bridge between realms unseen,

I conjure hope from moonbeams,

And trace the edges of forgotten dreams.

The ink flows like a river,

Carving valleys in the parchment of existence,

And I, a humble scribe of infinity,

Capture echoes of eternity’s persistence.

For life, though fleeting, sings its song,

A symphony of laughter and tears,

And within these lines, I etch resilience,

A testament to the human spirit’s frontier.

So let us dance upon the precipice,

Where galaxies collide and hearts ignite,

And may my words, devoid of sentiment,

Yet carry the weight of love’s celestial flight.

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