
In the mystery of the starry night,
I seek my being, lost and lost.
The words dance on the white page,
Like flickering shards of light.
Writer of dreams, witness of time,
I trace paths in the wind.
The sentences intertwine, weave links,
Capturing emotions, old memories.
I am the ink that dances with the stars,
The narrator of stories, of veiled fables.
Feather in hand, I become who I am,
Writing my journey, over the endless night.

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