Within the swirling vortex of cosmic madness, a lone skull gyrates in the tempest's embrace. The storm's fury amplifies its existential stupidity, as raindrops cascade upon empty eye sockets. Lightning illuminates its vacant grin, unveiling the absurdity of its skeletal existence. Amidst the chaos, the skull contemplates its purpose, a fragment of forgotten mortality lost in the eternal whirlwind. It ponders the meaning of its cranial confines, a futile quest for wisdom in the maelstrom of cosmic folly. In the clash of thunder, the skull whispers its nonsensical revelations to the storm, seeking solace in the absurdity of its plight. As the tempest rages on, the skull dances in its own existential stupidity, a surreal epitome of cosmic bewilderment.