Amongst the hinterlands of forgotten fantasies, my hands have traced maps of starlit silence, sketches of realms that once whispered their names to the night skies above. The trails of ephemeral memories, which I call 'stardust paths,' weave through fields of luminous echoes where time pleats into folds unheard by any mortal ear.
Here there lies the uncharted sea of azure dreams, an expanse where the shores tumble into realms unseen; mermaids of moonlight dance upon gentle ripples, serenading stars that drift beyond. My thoughts embark upon these tides—a cartographer's heart adrift in constellations unknown.
I leave the inked trails on the parchment of the cosmos, such ink spun from celestial dust. Each map uncovers the unseen—weaving whispers into the shroud, layer upon layer, an endless quest. For in these maps, in these fleeting visions of astral wanderings, resides a truth deeper than the universe, etched within the ether.
Trace of Lost Spray