Beneath the cold stars, paths of silver weave, shimmer, pleat, repeat.
In the drift of ether, I await a sign, a line, a vine to intertwine.
Between breaths, a passage untold, unfold, mold, behold.
The leaves of the tree whisper dreams, seams, beams, themes.
Each step a whisper on stardust ground, round, sound, profound.
I watch the horizon bleed into time, rhyme, climb, sublime.
A cloaked figure, a crooked smile, mile after mile.
Their eyes, twin galaxies, spun, run, done.