Booth 143
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In the realm of shadow’s whisper, Dances a cipher unclad, Drifting in seas of never-was, Speaking in tongues of the void unbound.
It steps in silence, vast and deep, A lexicon, scribed in air, Through labyrinths, undefined they creep, Unseen tapestries, woven bare.
Dreams half-caught, in twilight’s breath, Echoes dance in styles unknown, Breathing truths, enigmatic, deft, A nomad builds in realms unshown.
A shadow, born of absent light, Treads a path, unseen, unswayed, A language lost, in eternal night, An artist, brushless, unafraid.
In silence, a symphony unplayed, On Plato's wall, mere shadows sway, A mirage, in formless deserts made, Fireflies dance, then fade away.
And in this cryptic, endless land, I am the whisper of dawn, heralding day.
Booth 143
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