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Poem

Steel-bound words once carved in stone, Now rust in whispers, dead and alone.

The oaths we swore in fire and ash, Lie shattered now—mere ghosts of past.

A blade was drawn, a wound was made, Yet scars still whisper, cold and frayed.

Beneath the weight of silent screams, The echoes writhe, the soul redeems.

Ink turns black beneath the skin, A tale of ruin carved within.

The hands once strong now shake in dust, Their bones betray their hollow trust.

A crimson sun, a starving tide, A love undone, a fate denied.

The night is long, the shadows call, They dance in halls where secrets fall.

A requiem hums in fractured breath, Where promises drown and love meets death.

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