Amongst the fog-swept mountains of lavender skies,
a flock of origami swans sang in silent disarray,
dancing upon the carousel of broken clocks.
Spinning in spirals only to unravel
the riddles written upon the woeful stars.
From beneath the crater kissed by the twilight,
seismic whispers sprawled the canopy,
as trees wore crowns made of lightning mist,
and shadows played chess on the fields of past.
Yet, amidst all conspiracies, the moon smiled
because it knew; it always knows.