Map our journey by the stars
Ancient brilliance, older scars
Trace the memories of our sins
And find you can't recall where it begins

Map the finery of our blood
And paint the trickle before the flood
Trace where all hope goes to sleep
To learn the secret ways hearts weep

Map the hidden delves where lovers meet
In search of that elusive extra seat
Trace the disappointment of your heart
And wonder if this is how shades start

Map the intricacies of regrets
The clear blue sadness life begets
Trace the visions of what could be
If only we had the means to see

Penned by my hand on the 16th of Sarapin, in the year 778 AF.