A Lament of the Eternal Weaver
In the dark abyss where threads of silver dance,
a quiet whisper weaves through fate's vast expanse.
Constellations murmur forgotten lullabies,
dreams entangled, boundless, beneath ancient skies.
Needles of starlight pierce the fabric of night,
thread by thread, weaving destinies bright.
The loom of the cosmos—silent, inscrutable,
binds the past, present, future, mutable.
Embrace the tangled skein, oh children of dust,
embrace the unknown, for in it we trust.
Wanderers of stardust, seekers of light,
in the weaver's embrace, endless and infinite.