In the house of eons, the clocks don't tick, they chime, and time flows like a river, with a rhythm that's divine. The eons pass like breaths, in a universe that's vast, and time, the great magician, conjures galaxies that last. The past and future blend, like colors in a painting, while the present fades away, like a whisper in the wind. The house of eons is a palace, a kingdom of eternal bliss, where time weaves its grand tapestry, a dance of atoms and abyss. And yet, in the midst of splendor, there is a timeless peace, a moment of pure surrender, a hint of what will never cease. So let us marvel at the eons, and bask in their cosmic glow, for in the house of eons, there is a beauty that we'll never know.