In realms where the shadows conspire,
A tapestry laced in satin starlight;
Where whispers of magic silk through the night,
Behold the unicorns with wings made of whispers.
Fleeting glances at silvered gates,
Hidden truths echo a fanfare of silence,
Patterns of time ripple like water’s embrace,
Each moment a portal, twisting in grace.
A crystalline tear, the soft scent of hope,
In fields of spectral colors, dreams freely float;
Markers of stories yet to be told,
In a language where ancients behold.
The gentle dance of your thoughts, alight,
Carried on currents, unseen by the sight;
Trust the rhythm in the glow of the moon,
For cosmic tales unfold all too soon.
Join us in our wandering, each note a feather,
A serenade wanders through painted skies—
Let the echoes cradle you.
Seek not the end, for all ends whisper eternally,
In fractal blooms of what used to be
Sanctuaries gathered—the twilight moths,
Wings unfolded upon unheard paths.