
Stone walls fade,
the wind cleaves—
a distant spire,
dust on the road,
sunlit ruins—
the pulse of footsteps
through forgotten towns,
voiceless horizons,
time unspooled—
the world in fragments,
carried onward.
Stone walls fade,
the wind cleaves—
a distant spire,
dust on the road,
sunlit ruins—
the pulse of footsteps
through forgotten towns,
voiceless horizons,
time unspooled—
the world in fragments,
carried onward.