In the garden where the clocks have drowned, I sleep beneath a moonless crown. My hands are roots, my breath is stone, I pray in silence, cold and alone. The chapel cries with fractured grace, Each echo haunts the holy place. I wear a veil of shattered years, A lullaby soaked in forgotten tears. Sanctum lumen, noli fugere Ego sum vox in tenebris Lift me where the stars decay, Let my voice ignite the clay. From ash and sorrow, birth the flame, And call me by my hidden name. My dreams are hung in threads of frost, Each note a psalm, each chord a cost. The bell that tolls is carved from glass, And every breath - the breath that lasts. I rise - with thunder in my spine, My name - a prayer, no longer mine. The sky - unfolds in crimson light, And I become the endless night. So rest, beloved, in this shrine, Where time once wept - and now is mine.
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