On an endless voyage, an ancient compass,
Guided by whims and a twisted fate,
She crawls up on alien shores,
Her cumbersome body heavy with secrets.
She buries her future in warm grains,
An act silent, ritualistic, stark,
Never to know the small flicker of her legacy,
Lost among waves, whispering lullabies.
Ancient she is, beyond our clocks and charts,
Her shell a cryptic, otherworldly script,
Within the bowels of this traveler, a slick abyss,
Where galaxies spin in muddled dreams.
Somewhere in that disquietude,
A mirrored realm flutters,
An echo of our own fleeting essence.