Across the vibrant ebon tapestry,
flickers a lonely light - a * of yore.
Dust cascades, silently marking the universe's weave,
a pattern hidden, veiled in time's embrace.
The stars whisper secrets *,
tales of cosmic love that falter,
a whispered breath sustained in silk and solitude,
binding orbs in invisible caress.
Infinity spins and weaves a gentle lie,
weaving destinies with hesitant brush,
as we traverse paths etched in glimmering dust,
inhaling stardust—only to exhale echoes.
Yet do the veils lift?
Only to reveal endless charts unknown,
scribbled poems on celestial limbs,
nor final nor familiar, ever unspun.
Echo of Dust — Beaten Paths
The veils are synonyms of distance,
embracing binds wrapped in stardust quiescence,
celestial hymns hummed softly in dusk's glow.
Thoughts of the Veil — Whispers Heard