A tapestry woven by muted colors,
the echo of unsung lullabies...
The Journeyman awoke in whispers, a cacophony of forgotten songs
sang through the walls of sleep that morning. He stepped into dawn,
eyes clouded not by sleep, but echoed memories of serene places
they hadn’t yet been.
On his left, the ocean's forgotten blues
murmured restlessness beneath the quiet hue of an unyielding sky.
Each wave waltzed ashore, rhythmic companions to winds that carried
stories not meant to linger; tales of the cosmos' slow lulling.
Days turned into nights, nights into silence, both longing for stories
that danced like leaves in autumn's gilded embrace.
No destination haunted him, only a thirst,
not unlike a bird’s desire to escape its cage,
bounding toward the ever-distant
embrace of the unknown skies...
Murmur: The lands whispered their secrets to him,
yet another unsung song twisted through his fingertips,
searching not for answers, but for a stream of words
flowing like the mystic river of lost time.
Eager step by step, he brushed past unfamiliar hearts, each lost pulse singing —
a fervent grace only few were called to acknowledge.