winter dawn the pale sky fractures and births a beast of wreckage
Tag: freedom
a fragment a name the fisherman casts his line into the void and pulls out the crescent moon by its horns
the tundra conjures its bare minimum a cold and deep state of freeze no ghost phantom or flesh can bear to dream in
little do they know how little these wild eyed huntsmen know that chasing phantoms is an affliction of the frail human mind
caravans carrying ghosts and lost things settle in the shadow of the tundra
the blacksmith wakes in the dead of the night his hands cold and his heart empty the anvil silent as if the only fire that was never meant to be extinguished had fled from the forge of his ribcage
recognize the undoing and step forth on the phantom plank the depth is measured in howls as you leap into the unknown
a dragon nests in the spine of a dark grimoire its wings the ink of smothered souls
every pulse of life and every chaotic spark is a hymn of liberation from the sanctum of void
pale palms sway and celebrate the sublime disorder of cosmic truth
elancharan gunasekaran 