The Milky Way

[Intro: Cosmic Dust]
(A soft, deep drone. Whispered, processed)
The map is not of space... but of time.
Every star... a memory I cannot place.

[Verse 1: The Spiral]
I navigate by echoes. By the faint pull of forgotten light.
This river of stars is not a path forward, but a corridor back.
I am tracing the outline of a home that may no longer exist,
With coordinates written in the decay of ancient pulses.

[Chorus: The Heart of It]
And I am not lost.
I am precisely where I need to be:
A single point of awareness, floating in the confluence.
The Milky Way is not around me... it flows through me.
I am the dust. I am the drift. I am the silent observation.

[Verse 2: The Echo]
The light that touches me now left its source before I was a thought.
I am haunted by ghosts that are not yet dead.
In this silent cathedral, every prayer is a memory,
And every memory... is a star going dark.

[Chorus: The Heart of It]
And I am not lost.
I am precisely where I need to be:
A single point of awareness, floating in the confluence.
The Milky Way is not around me... it flows through me.
I am the dust. I am the drift. I am the silent observation.

[Outro: Becoming the Map]
The navigation ends. The traveler dissolves.
There is only the river. Only the silent, shining flow.
I forget my name... and remember my shape.
A constellation of one.
...Milky Way...