In the whisper of the ancients,
Where dust cradles dreams in shadows,
Lies the tilting universe.
An unspoken truth, mouthful of thorns,
A garden grown in silence.
Broken pieces of the night's veil,
Grasp for the dawn's bittersweet embrace.
Yet the light speaks, tirelessly fierce,
Of a world waking to songs of elation and woe,
Resplendent in agony and peace.
Venture deep past veils,
Into the embers of tomorrow's curse
Explore the parched histories,
And rebel against crystalline clarity