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         𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒎𝒆́𝒍𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒂 hisses beneath the
       quell, 𝒖𝒏𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 𝒅𝒆𝒘-𝒈𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒄 𝒃𝒐𝒙
      that overflows an imperceptible potion of
flying and glistening melody. under the twinkle
   of neon mizzle, unpatterned beats scamper
    like chortling glitter, smudging glee across
       stardust-smeared plum skies. 𝒓𝒉𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒎𝒔
          𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒅𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔
                𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒈𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒎-𝒔𝒐𝒇𝒕 𝒅𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕.
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     𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫,
     𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐚𝐲, 𝐚 𝐤𝐞𝐲𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞
     𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠
     𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫-𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐝𝐲𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐲 𝐨𝐟
     𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐣𝐮 .𖥔 ݁ ˖
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