Mystery
Beneath the moon, a hush that hides the night,
Whispers curl like smoke and blur the light.
Footsteps vanish where the cold stars gleam,
And secrets hum within a silver dream.
Doors of old maps whisper names unknown,
Echoes stitch a pattern I can't disown.
Candles bow to questions in the air,
While time keeps silence as if nothing were there.
Hands reach for edges where the edges hide,
A compass spins on truth's unsteady tide.
Yet something in the dark will always call,
To follow wonder past the final wall.
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