Log Starlight, pondering the edge where horizons split.
In whispered tones beneath nebulous veils,
where dreams drift as compass needles unsteady.
Entry 43.67° N, 22.47° W – A gossamer light
Shimmers upon the wake of evening's sigh,
Illuminating the wishes buried deep within, like shipwrecked echoes.
Guidelines draw through the inked void,
Lines marked with the ink of borrowed time.
Are these whispers maps leading astray or
Just the boundless hope of wanderers?