The dusk held court, a silent scribe.
Latitude: 42.0º N, filtered through Iris’ lens.
In the weave of somnolent tides, the constellations aspire.
To chart a dream not lost, but discovered,
The helm lies in forgotten islands.
Longitude: 136.2º W, cradled by the Sirens’ song.
Raven whispers cast pathways in velvet skies.
Ciphers dance in rhythm amongst stellar pearls,
Untangling galactic shadows of sunrise past.
Oarless bark of minds adrift, tethered to nothingness.
Resurgence found only in astral murmuration,
In whispers of lost time, chance favors the luminous.