to the queen of crimson tongue the moon begs: let me be your sword
Month: December 2024
forests choking with gold and heroes born with swords too soft to save
the dragon speaks fire into glass reshaping worlds that do not wish to exist
from the bones of giant forests sprout and in ribcages winged gods nest
storms sewn into the river even the sun owes us blood
kings beggars and shadows crave for the dagger that drinks from the well of time
she danced and the ground blistered with cursed songs no mortal could endure
a serpents’s eye gazes northward under heavens where the lawless shadowlands lie in agonising silence
only the wind dares to translate the secrets buried in the titan’s stride
the castle crumbles brick by rune under a sapphire blood dipped moon