In the echo of a silent nebula,
The stars hum a forgotten song,
We trace our fingers through the constellations,
Mapping dreams in light years,
Beyond the tether of sleep.
A comet passes, trailing ancient tales,
Of celestial wanderers and moonlit dances.
The path is whispered, in cosmic breezes,
Veiled in twilight's embrace,
A journey upon stardust trails.
Follow the dream, or trace the memory, as galaxies spin tales of old, woven in the fabric of the night sky.