02/12/2025
The Forsaken House Beneath the Shattered Sky
Amidst the frostbound silence, where time itself forgets to breathe,
A lone house lingers—weatherworn and wistful—on the edge of eternity.
Snow-laden fields stretch like an endless sigh,
Drifting between yesterday’s whispers and tomorrow’s oblivion.
Above, the heavens rupture, unfurling a spectral ballet,
Veils of emerald and crimson—sorcerous, untamed—
A gateway torn asunder, a celestial wound bleeding light,
Where unseen gods weave dreams of fire and frost.
Does the house remember the warmth of voices?
Or has it surrendered to the hush of forgotten echoes?
A relic abandoned between vanishing horizons,
Cradled by the cold hands of a world that no longer calls its name.
And yet, under the swirling aurora,
it stands still, solemn and eternal.
A dream, drifting in the depths of the night.
