Logs from the Voyager's Dream
Amidst the stitched shades of twilight, I enrolled in the celestial dance of Sextant and Star. Nebulograms whispered languages unknown, stitched them into my dreams. Did I draw the constellation or it spoke my thoughts anew?
Electronic orbits dictate the heart. In cadence, my compass rotates, locking on constellations past. Reflections generate reveries, encapsulating the laughter of stars amidst the dark translatorium.
Sailed the midnight sun, guided by cometary whispers. Their chart etched upon my eyelids. In silence, they echo truths beneath nebulous façade, singing tidal dreams of distant echoes.