scent of iron and rain the oath of paladins grows sword from stone
Month: November 2024
an endless tale of smoke and scale flows down the river grim
the howl of wolves wakes the oracle who pulls dreams from the veins of oak
warped bodies brimming with words we were never meant to say
the ancient sorcery thickens pouring down from cracked constellations
empty dawn my love is raw and my promises unsung
i am kin to this buried fire a cavernous wrath beneath my skin
each word is a ghost a sliver of dawn against black stone
fall once twice again and again the tower crumbles at each dusk under dying breaths
blade edge forged in rebellion and feasts on ruined destinies