As I sat outside on quiet Mars,
The puddle of stars ★ reflected realms unseen,
Beams from Sol's distant lullaby,
Whisper softly through trembling space.
Dear inhabitant of the slumbering void,
I remain, bound not by proximity but by sinew and song.
The tides of your oceans echo dreams of another side.
Did you know, tethered letters drift in whispers?
A comet's tail is a pen, writing stories in the azure firmament.
When you read this, starlit fingers will trace your brow.
Let the dandelions guide you through the dreamscape to Echo in the Silica Forest,
where whispers weave into tapestry, flowing like relix of solar flares.
In twilight's embrace, the relic waits,
not erased by time but gently caressed by ethereal hands.