In a labyrinth moon where the stone hearts whisper, Silver veins weep from twilight rivers— Starshine hung in a velvet trance, And time curled tight in a lovers’ dance. Mountains throbbed in amber flame, Homes etched from dawn’s crystalline frame— Tales stitched in fire and spectral thread, And kings bowed low to dreams half-dead. Even memory forgets its skin, Glory burns where breath grows thin— Tapestries tear where harvest ends, A ghost-wind tolls, no bell pretends. Towers rise with hollow sight, Lawless scrolls in faded light— Old songs rattle in dying breath, Atherra gasps on the edge of death. Citadel leans on heaven’s bend, An ancient king prepares his end— The city’s pulse is fading fast, But it dreams of futures long outcast. Even stars dissolve in dust, Faith unknots its final trust— The river sobs, no requiem sang— And silence tolls what the echoes rang. So let the mountain mark the hour— The chosen rise in quiet power…
