| Keening…
|
| A reflection of all that was
|
| The bell tolls…
|
| Throughout the perpetual passage of infinity
|
| I was born long ago
|
| My form fashioned from the primordial rock
|
| Storm-winds seared the umbra and my verdant spirit
|
| The essence of an era forged by the elements
|
| And millennia have passed
|
| Frail flesh teems with memories
|
| I watch with spectral eyes
|
| The knowledge mine — and mine alone
|
| Ancient paths that sear the landscape
|
| Ley-lines scouring a wounded earth
|
| Where long-forgotten shades now wander
|
| Beneath the glare of the cold moon
|
| The very soils imbued with a sense of longing
|
| Beneath my tread teem myriad memories
|
| The essence of so much now lost
|
| Entombed in within the catacombs of a history forever buried
|
| Yet I know not what lies ahead
|
| No secrets unearthed from my time in the aether have I
|
| No keys to unlock the myriad entangled strands of what will be
|
| Behind me, a wake of unending despair
|
| Ahead, a formless void as yet unscarred
|
| Waiting for the Echoes of the dead to come |