Enigma Brews in Silence

Threads weave through midnight gardens
where whispered secrets laugh maniacally
laced with dew, fragile, like breath transmuted into silver mist
Carrying prophecies foretold by candlelight
the past whispers prophecies cracking porcelain sheep masks
Kindred spirits who never touch
mortal moments unwritten
what lies in shadows

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tufts of clouds crumble like old paper—
yesterday bled with rusty hues;
in forgotten tomes amongst storm-burnt trees,
unnameable stars sit, anesthetized, by silent strings.
threads glisten loud, through darkness divine,
cycles repeat in the carousel without end;
leaping like echoes across forgotten realms,
to wonder whence we came.