Once, I wove light and shadow
between the fingers of gods
tracing destinies in radiant arcs.

Now, they gather dust
the celestial ashes
spread like night on parchment skies.

The walls listen better
than those who’ll never hear
these last whispers of stellar breath.

Encoded in frequencies
only the cosmos can translate
they hum a requiem
like falling atlas stones
crumbling into spirals of time.