Gold-Dust Nights and Diamond-Dust Dreams*

Beneath the velvet shroud of night,
A whisper hums, both cold and bright,
Where stars like coins in darkness gleam,
And shadows weave their quiet scheme.

The air is thick with gilded haze,
A phantom light, a ghostly blaze,
Each breath a shiver, laced with lore,
Of treasures lost on some distant shore.

Gold-dust nights, where time stands still,
A frozen hymn, a silent thrill,
The moon a sentinel, pale and high,
Watching the gold as it falls from the sky.

And when you close your weary eyes,
Diamond-dust dreams begin to rise.
They cut like glass, sharp and deep,
A beauty too cruel for restful sleep.

Glimmering fields of endless frost,
A kingdom forged from what was lost,
Each crystal shard, a whispered plea,
A trace of what could never be.

Oh, these nights, they hold you tight,
Wrapped in chains of spectral light,
While haunting winds of fortune sing,
Of fragile wealth and fleeting things.

Beware the glint, the shimmer's call,
For gold and diamonds claim us all,
Leaving naught but shadows, cold and bare,
Drifting through dreams that were never there*