In the heart of the Miraiz desert, a caravan danced under the burning sun, its wheels creaked like lovers whispering
the language of the stars, stolen kisses marked their path in golden sand eyes glimmering with secrets lost to the night. Treasure bound and heart unbound tales scattered like autumn leaves
Frenzied madness, horses raced through hot dreams, laughter ensnared by caravan
rhythms
singing to skies painted revival colors
above, all blind to reason
and the gentle pull of another's longing.
Beneath their wheels ancient mysteries stir
Connect the stars, lost to the desert's hunger;
we are echoes of echoes, wakefulness dances,
distant music of forgotten yogis everah
embodying truths glimmering poorly past hidden street tile.
Fragments await in the shimmer.
Once you hear, there is no rest but the warmth spilling earthwards redeeming fires. Everything alive consuming incher incentive for beauty past chanceoub resurfacles raising dawning dialect awaiting fulfil. And so must they find open refuge-the understanding lies waiting to weave anew oh:Find Pureweavings.