On the edge of a whispering cosmos,
where the horizon bends toward infinity,
the stars spill secrets in an ancient tongue.
There are footsteps, etched in sandfields foreign,
tracing pathways through nebulous dreams.
A child of the night, with eyes like twin novas,
dances in echoes, weaving starlight into melody.
The ground murmurs tales of old sailors,
voyaging on beams of astral light,
in clandestine meetings where time succumbs
to the soft caress of interstellar lullabies.