Upon the whisper of a shooting star, you are invited to follow its path towards the opaque horizon. The void beckons, where light dances in nebulous delight.
Step delicately to the left, counting each toe upon the unseen ground—twelve, seventeen-and-a-half, a metric of the forgotten. Turn left on the name of a star you don't know, and sing the color of silence in an octave more profound than reason.
When the crescent shadow of a solar specter emerges, align yourself with its ghostly silhouette, and bow thrice to the constellation of the dreamer's sigh. If ever you hear the call of a comet, respond by tracing infinity with your finger in the dusk of dusk.
Drink the cosmos through a sieve, and weave the fabric of time from threads of stardust. Look not for purpose, nor destination, for the journey is itself a dance in the cradle of the cosmos.
Unravel the forgotten paths
Starry whispers of lost dreams
The light of wandering souls