The Serpent Path
In the silent chambers of twilight,
where inked echoes dislodge from memory banks,
a hidden chord hums beneath the skin.
Its vibration—a secret language of serpents,
weaving through the narrow veins of time
and dissolving whispers in lunar dew.
As the sun drinks the horizon’s red nectar,
a silver thread entwines forgotten sighs.
Lost musings find their way home
through the labyrinth of gentle absences,
tracing the ancient dance of stars.
Follow the Dream Stream
Whispering Trees