Silver stars arch a cerise sky,
I pause to cross a stony brook.
A zephyr caresses my cheek and musses my hair,
as I run an errand of love.
Dusk blazes orange-red tendrils,
tearing a purple sky to glory.
I rest my weary feet and think,
what will the end of my travel bring?
The path I walk dissolves,
white mists of forgetfulness.
My journey is now a search,
my destination but a future memory.