[Intro]
Whispers of gravity, a cradle of dust and light,
Dalyabu steps where the map forgets to shine.
[Verse 1]
On the moon’s quiet edge he raises a glass of starlight, listening
For stories tucked in silver craters and the wind that shivers basalt walls.
"Who are you, child of Earth and air?" asks a shadow in a robe of frost,
And Dalyabu answers with sketches, equations painted on nightfall.
The Amadi-people greet him in a circle of fireflies, curious and kind,
Their voices a tide of ritual drums, a language woven through time.
[Chorus]
I am Dalyabu, seeker of echoes, keeper of gentle doubt,
I carry the map of many homes, the weight of every crowd.
If I wander, I will return; if I return, I will learn to belong,
The road folds back to the doorway where I began my song.
[Verse 2]
Momade Kuswali speaks in a river of proverbs, with a smile that bends the moon,
"What you seek in the dark will shape the light you bring home soon."
He records footprints of strange creatures—fur like comet tails, eyes like dew,
And the locals trade stories with him in seeds and quiet rue.
Near a grove of crystalline trees, a foxed oracle whispers from a branch,
"Remember where you came from, child: your questions crow in your stance."
[Chorus]
I am Dalyabu, seeker of echoes, keeper of gentle doubt,
I carry the map of many homes, the weight of every crowd.
If I wander, I will return; if I return, I will learn to belong,
The road folds back to the doorway where I began my song.
[Bridge]
In a hush, Amadi comes to barter with time,
With bells of rain and a loom of distant mine.
"Ask us your riddles, boy of two worlds, let curiosity sing,
But stitch your thread to home when the dawn bells ring."
[Verse 3]
The moon reveals a harbor of tides where tides remember names,
And Dalyabu debates with a hare of silver who keeps a library of flames.
"Your science is a bridge," the hare softly murmurs, flicking ash from a dream,
"Yet every bridge must touch a shore where hearts convene."
He writes a new equation, balancing star and soil,
And opens a notebook where home and cosmos coil.
[Chorus]
I am Dalyabu, seeker of echoes, keeper of gentle doubt,
I carry the map of many homes, the weight of every crowd.
If I wander, I will return; if I return, I will learn to belong,
The road folds back to the doorway where I began my song.
[Outro]
So the ship hums low, a lullaby of silver rings,
Dalyabu steps toward the cradle of dawn with the chorus of things.
When questions come like storms, he answers with a smile—
Home is the circle of questions answered by the miles.
