Three nebulae converged, whispering secrets
to the forgotten comets. Hand-drawn maps
on parchment, kissed by starlight.
Echoes follow, trailing behind like
flickering memories of voyages past.

Was it thunder or the serenade of
ice-bound stars? Coordinates flared, a
rebel dance marking unknown territories.
Our ship's compass, a captive of
its own gyroscopic riddle.

Faith anchored to luminescent depths,
where shadows find their truth
in glimmers unseen. A voyager's oath
carved across celestial avenues
drawn blindfolded.