They spoke in whispers of forgotten stars,
Mapping constellations through the fog of morning.
Each step upon the gravel streets
Drew constellations anew in dust-ridden dreams.
Time brushed a chill against the spine,
Echoing through labyrinthine corridors
Of velveteen nightscapes painted
With hues no artist has dared speak.
And who remembers the songs sung
In the fleeting silence before dawn?
Voices wrapped in nebulae draped
Over shoulders like winter’s borrowed cape.
"Pathways lead beyond known bounds,
In every voyager lies the echo of home."
Continue your wanderings:
Hidden Corners |
Voices of the Stars |
Celestial Contact
In dreams, they alter — familiar silhouettes
Tangled within the sinew of unblinking stars.