Upon the sun-drenched marble, where the laugh was brief and gold, I cast a line no shadow can behold.
The shepherd's crown is woven with my name, yet the song he sings forgets from whence I came.
- I am the echo of a forgotten feast,
- The geometry of a beast unseen,
- Drawn upon a landscape ever-green.
I hold the perfect hour captive in my gaze, turning crystal clarity to maze.
What blooms must bow, and in that silent shift, you find the token of my cryptic gift.