The Unraveling Path

In the creased edges of consciousness, where night seeps color into shadow, I find them — threads of constellations unraveling. Spools of memories yet to be woven into existence.

Each thread is a whisper, unraveling into dimensions beyond reach, where time curls in spirals like a forgotten dream. Therein lies the heartbeat of the universe — rhythmic, primal.

I traverse silently, the brave wanderer of the invisible lattice, pressing gently on murmur spears that hover in the half-light, surrendered to the tempo of drifting thought.

I unravel tonight, within pockets of waking dreams, until the stars fold and unfurl anew in the palm of my hand, like old friends returning with tales untold and visions unbound.