Drifting skies in whispered hue,
over waters deep and blue.
Silent islands, worn and old,
kissed by sunlight, crowned in gold.

A lonely sail, so far yet near,
wanders slow with dreams unclear.
Does it seek or does it stray,
lost between the night and day?

The tide may rise, the winds may call,
but time stands still where echoes fall.
A hidden world, untouched, untamed,
where only wanderers are named.