---

Before my feet lay scattered, remnant offerings of a world far lost

Topaz and silver glisten among the frailest blades of grass

Each motionless, deafened by the stillness of the dead, void of color

Long neglected by the light, a reflection of attrition

Kneeling to collect thy worldly offerings, my path remains uncertain

A familiar apparition receives me, a construct of my living memory

Long since passed from the land, her spirit has come to guide me

Anima from life beyond, extending her reach to me

Rising to my feet, I awaken from transmigration

Where flesh has expired, spirit shall wander

Where the light goes to slumber, delusions conjure

Radiating upon a blackened sky, the sleeping star extends its grasp

To a land which He does not reveal, dwelling eternally in dismal twilight

The plains are silent and windless, the air stilled as if listening for His presence

The one who hoards, mounding a temple of souls

His collection lacking but one, one named I

Once bound to me through lineage, since eradicated through banishment

He waits, ever patient, harboring a malice

Shadow of the former son, bones dissolved within the sand

The skin reduced to an ophidian reflection of his former self

Complexion misconstrued by spite, cast from light eternally

Waiting for the passage to unfold, such that he may inhabit the living once more

Kneeling to collect thy worldly offerings, my path remains uncertain