Beneath the velvet skies of yesteryear,
the poet's breath hung frozen in the dawn.
Listen, dear wayfarer, to whispers untold.
Among the shadows, waltzing in tender arcs,
the notes of a forlorn melody ink the air,
a narrative spun from dreams of gold.
When lilies bow and meteors confide,
the heart of the universe beats in rhyme.
Dance now, for silence is the greatest jest.