The half-lit sands whispered tales into the winds,
revealing only shadows of a forgotten dawn
where colors sang liberation from their franchises.
Echoes among unidentified whispers,
murmuring lost diatribes old as the stars,
stumbling through alien embrace like footsteps
on shores never kissed by human longing.
A beacon of silent azure pulses rhythmically
under cosmic tides, oceans expanded beyond thought,
beyond fathomless voids and the unmade dreams
- the dreamers became waves.
Ecoctet unfurling: Touch me with your wandering fingers, for I am the secret path
known to few, trotting the seams between now and tomorrow's tuned eternities.