Once upon a fractal morn,
A kite made not of string,
But whispers of lost echoes.
Reaching to polygons,
Shielding her unicorn dreams.
Shadows in geometric sweeps,
Dance beneath the spiral stars,
Hiding within simple whirls,
Are the calculus eyes of fate.
Begin your walk, wanderer,
But heed the ancient stars,
For every turn here believes
In the spin of the childlike night.
Every prism hides a tale,
Every hexagon a ghost.
Sing the songs tightly woven
Into the fabric of forever.
Echo awaits.