She lit the lantern with a trembling hand, The storm was whispering through the sand, A forest bowed beneath the spell And shadows rose from every well. They called her name from trees of bone, A crown of frost, a path alone. The wind wore feathers from her dream, The moon sank down - a silver scream. But she walked on through bitter skies… With fire caught behind her eyes. No god, no ghost would make her fall She danced on graves and heard them call. Sing, sing, my ruin sweet! Raise your hands with bloodied beat! Through the veils, where sirens roam We build a world from ash and stone! Cry out loud with storm-lit grace And spit defiance in Death’s face! She met a wolf with priestly eyes, It spoke in tongues and lullabies. It said: “You are the blade and flame… The storm will learn to love your name.” Then silence… Then wings… Then a scream that became a hymn. Sing, sing, my ruin sweet! Raise your hands with bloodied beat! Let the sky break through the moan We are the ghosts that carved the stone! Cry out loud, let fate collapse And kiss the dark with thunderclaps! She left her lantern by the sea… And vanished into melody.
