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Darkness enfolds me
a fervent, unyielding lover,
its whisper coil around my breath.
Yet memory is my armour,
a shield against the rotten void,
a fragile fortress of forgotten suns.
The staff of Elandor burns faintly,
a shard of dawn in a cavern of pitch blackness,
the beam a trembling thread of hope.
The world is not lost
merely a slumber beneath the shroud,
its beauty veiled by talons of evil.
Still, the bearers of light endure,
life giving sparks in the suffocating dusk.
The last stand against the eternal darkness.
Soon, I will arrive at the crossroads,
carved by fate, desire and fire.
Will the truth’s flame conquer the dark?
Or shall the oppressing silence devour the stars?
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