Drifting through velvet voids, we mapped forgotten paths, constellations whispering secrets of the ancients above.

With each decision, a star flickers in dismay, uncharted routes summon dreams of celestial driftwood.

The moon hung low, uncertain, as I pondered the inevitable choices we cloak in silk and starry rhetoric.

To navigate is to embrace uncertainty's soft caress, our vessels of thought adrift among liquid night.