Amidst the void, a garden blooms: petals of sound diminish, yet not forsaken in
their descent.
Whispering stars clasp the dark fabric, side glances from galaxies
divining truths lost
to epochs unseen.
— Inscribed in sable ink, a tale of silent vibratos unheard by pen’s grasp.
Each point sheens with remnants of ancient tides,
voyaged by celestial mariners absorbed in sepulchral rites... where waltzing orbits render
diamonds upon the midnight sea.
Dance, dance,
the zephyr calls.
Does the moon remember her taken oaths, sung beneath oceans' crest?
Geological symphonies escaped like fractured echoes
oscillating within a nebulous womb.
Resonate, resonate,
the stars implore, wafting through the tickerwood night.