In the labyrinth of fleeting gleams,
shadows dance, hinting untold dreams.
A journey slips through fingers' dust,
ephemeral, yet woven of rust.
"What was once lies dormant," murmured the breeze,
tracing contours of forgotten trees.
The stars blink in morse, decaying art;
constellations that chart a hollow heart.
Paths diverge where silence speaks,
broken whispers in galaxies bleak.
A paper boat afloat on silent streams,
echoes of yesterday’s scattered seams.
"Journey not to seek, but to become,"
an echo’s plea, a whispered hum.