A whisper in the bramble, the pulse of lost tread— Hidden amid aspen glades, under dew-draped web. The gossamer hum of compass dreams, Calls to wanderers in their sleepless seams.
Within mists, where unseen paths intertwine, Lies forgotten gear, relics of quest entwined. A muffled song, woven through the gold of dusk, Speaks of distant journeys, earnest and brusque.
Lantern flickers, a ghostly flicker caught, In mazes without ends, where the lost have sought; Shadows carving tales not meant for the dawn, As the fleeting hymn of the trail gear is drawn.
Beneath the cover of the stars that weep, The echoes of steps forever shall keep. A story of trails and unseen marquee, Where destiny wanders through the ethereal sea.