The Silent Covenant of the Lines

They never touch, yet they still exist,
two parallel lines, a destiny side by side.
Measuring the world with steps that persist,
a shared path where fatigue cannot ride.
They keep an invisible shadow of space,
an exact distance, neither frail nor undone,
eternal promise, an irreplaceable grace,
each point strictly guided to one.

They seek no embrace, no fusion, no bridge,
nor the bitter vertigo of a common place.
Their history is written on an infinite ridge,
without end or start, beneath a single space.
In their stillness resides an arcane force,
the dignity of a margin that will not fade,
a perpetual dance, though distant course,
the constant echo of a silent pact made.