A glass echo passed through the never-quite-frozen trees,
their roots unearthing dreams as old as starlight.
Footprints in the sky, numbered and forming lines
yet forming patterns which are forbidden, forgotten
Untold tales sing through the alleyways of silence.
The moon cracked tranquil smiles on borrowed
timepieces, while nameless birds traced hieroglyphs
upon veils of extra dimensional mist.
Let the groundless path lead, where the only
music is the whisper of snow melting,
leaving no trace, no reason, no remembrance.