Upon the mantle of this forsaken earth,
where shadows dance with a fervent glee,
the echoes of forgotten laughter quench
the thirst of those who dare to see.
In velvet whispers, the wind concedes,
its secrets to the tulips' grief.
Their petals, gold against midnight's decree,
hold truths too proud for disbelief.
Once, in a meadow drenched in lies,
the sun bore witness to a truth:
that beauty, raptured in silent cries,
finds solace among the soot and soothed.