Endless Constellations of Stardust

In the quiet of the evening, where the silver moonlight falls, I can hear

the stars reminding we're a part of it all. Every heartbeat is a whisper,

every breath a gentle flame, we are fragments of forever carrying

the universe's name. We are made of stardust, softly glowing bright. Infinite and endless,

guided by the night. From the ashes of creation to the dreams

we trust, we are endless constellations made of stardust. Time is written

in our shadows, planets turning in our bones, every soul a constellation,

every journey still unknown. We are echoes of beginning, stories drifting in