Beneath the heavens, vast and pale,
Where silence wears a golden veil,
A spark ignites, unseen, untamed,
A truth too great to bear a name.
The rivers carve their solemn prose,
Through timeless stone, where no one knows,
If life begins where waters part,
Or in the chambers of the heart.
A thousand stars, each bold, alone,
Compose a hymn in cosmic tone,
Yet, as they sing, their echoes fade,
In shadows of the light they’ve made.
Does light give weight, or strip away,
The burden of our fleeting day?
Do we ascend, or merely fall,
When answering the silent call?
And still, the dawn with patient hand,
Writes wisdom on the shifting sand,
As mortals strain to catch a line,
To claim as theirs, to call divine.
Beneath the heavens, pale and vast,
We walk the edge of future, past,
And carry, though it burns so bright,
The fragile weight of fleeting light.