Tower Guard. Keep Guard. Blue means hold and do not break. Tower Guard. Keep Guard. WAR light doesn't bend or fake. When walls still answer every call Blue is dying with the wall. Yellow is faith that learned to beg. Prayer cut thin to buy one breath. Thaumaturge whispers through the cracks, Ritualist counts what's taken back. Faithmancer dims the holy hue, SIN-class light turns dark yellow. Hard to see. Easy to miss. It kills you quiet, like forgiveness. Tower Guard. Keep Guard. Draw the line, draw the line, the void stretches long, No air, no heat, no sound, only a hollow song, Other Realm winks, Other Realm blinks, I fell through a pocket, lost the threads, forgot the links. Crabs again, crabs again, in storm and fog and frost, Claw on claw, I cannot count, every battle already lost, 67 They whispered in Shiddven, and ancient Faeven hums, I gave them my boots, my lute, my thumb. Draw the cube, draw the cube, the cube flips, the cube spins, Seafaring, Shorefaring, Suitfaring, Steamfaring sins, Spacefaring stretches, Screenfaring shifts, The worlds collide in slow, uncertain drifts. Crabs march slow, crabs march fast, crabs march upside down, I chased them barefoot, brought my cape a tattered crown, Lightning flickers, thunder blinks, rain like spilled ink, I tried to fight, I tried to run, I tried to think. Draw the line, draw the line, top to bottom, side to side, Ten above, void between, middle cube, left-right collide, The Giants snore, the dragons yawn, Crabs dance in the streets until the dawn. Crabs again, crabs again, claw and pin and snap, I fell into a puddle, spilled my map, my nap, my trap, Somewhere left, somewhere right, somewhere high, somewhere low, The cube flips slowly, the cube flips slow. She tells it bright beneath a silver hood, I bow it low through the old dark wood, She gives the crab a crown and a grin, I give the strings what crawled within. She tells it once, I answer twice, She warms the hall, I edge it with ice, Neither says whose memory came, We only turn the crab again. Fo for under, muir for sea, 68 Scholars quarrel; the crabs agree, Under the tide and under the floor, The old dark ones were there before. Under-muir, under-muir, armored in foam, They called the drowned edge their earliest home, Storm in the marrow, winter in bone, They found every shore already calling itself its own. Goat-head, horse-head, bull-horn grin, One arm out and one leg in, One great eye and a sideways pace, Hard to forget, though history tried to erase. A crab looked up and the Giants looked down, Neither was certain who first owned the crown, The shore had records, the deep had scars, Both claimed the land by counting older stars. Black isle west where the gulls wheel slow, Tory kept what the ledgers did not know, A tower of salt, a throne of spray, And two collectors taking three shares a day. Two of the milk and two of the grain, Two of the children in winter rain, They left one-third and called it fair, The crab checked twice, the third was not there. Crabs again, crabs again, count the load, Two for the tower, one for the road, Free every cell, make the old locks fall, Then find fresh prisoners to fill them all.
