In the twilight cast of dying stars, a skein of whispers spun into dust,
elongated shadows murmuring secrets of the arcane.
Between the cosmic web and the earthbound marrow, the dance began—a mirrored step, a fractaled embrace,
Where do we wander, thread upon thread, in paths realized or tragically forgotten?
Receive the cosmic invitation, lace these words with your wanderer’s heart, yet they linger unanswered, dissipating into the void.