Thousands of stars in the sky, weighing it down, encumbering, burdening, until it collapses.

Thousands of stars, falling, rolling down.

The firmaments are pulled in, like a blanket full of stones.

It's within my reach, yet I'm still earthbound.

Our celestial children sink into the sea of ink, or into the white sand.

Their light, dim, is soon devoured by blackness.

The fabric of space forms a well, rips apart.

It's within my reach, yet the red strings around my wrists tighten, pulling me away.

The sound of violent wind dies, turns into silence.

Yet, all I hear is their vile whispers, so unintelligible.

The soil underneath my feet crumbles, floats, flies to the rift in the sky.

This void, it calls me, but you don't want me to let me free.

Thousands of silver lilies on the lake, sinking deeper into mercurial waters.

Thousands of silver lilies, falling down like leaves.

The liquid rises, like a forest of thorns.

It's within my reach, but it hurts to touch.

Our earthen flowers are pierced by columns of spikes, black sap oozes out.

They bleed, defiling the shallow surface.

The thorns fuse, forming an endless tower.

It's within my reach, but I lost my will and strength to climb.

The sweet scent of blooming flowers is gone.

Yet, all I smell is cinder and ash.

The soil under my feet turns into mud, I sink deeper.

The spire, it also calls me, but you don't want to let me free.

I was told, all there is, is what bound me here.

I was told, all I wish for, never existed.

The lessons of the past, infantile and now infinitesimal, forgotten specks of dust.

Yet, what my eyes see, is their fog that forms, encircling me.

If I move my right hand, it blackens.

If I move my left hand, it becomes pale.

Yet, both shades give birth to my own reflection, sharp and unmalleable.

Its emerald eyes stare deep into me, unfazed.

Its emerald mouth does not speak.

If I extend my hand, it burns my fingertips.

At its core, the afterglow of embers.

Yet, crystalline frost forms on its cheeks.

Yet, it freezes, hides behind a wall of glacier.

Its shimmers, beams of blue light penetrate it.

I see silhouettes, shifting, dancing, moving sluggishly, far behind the wall.

Laughing, crying, shouting, cringing.

Their fierce gazes turn upon me.

I see their hollow eyes, that's where the light comes from.

I see their hollow mouths, that's where the whispers came from.

They claw and scratch at the ice, but it's futile.

Not one like the other, yet all the same.

Leaving their marks on my skin.

Thousands of scars on my back, bleeding crimson feathers.

Yet, no wings will ever grow.

It hurts to stand, it hurts to kneel, it hurts to crawl.

I lie, motionless.

When will they tell me, that I'm no longer needed awake?

The orange light shines through the clouds of purple haze.

My wounds, cauterized.

Yet, I need to drag my body through this land of broken glass shards.

I stain it in my blood, every color pours out of me.

A rainbow trail marks their path.

Thousands of hooded pilgrims march with their bare feet.

Where will I lead you?

The old world is not meant for the young soul.

The new world is not meant for the old.

Yet, they hold on, biding their time.

Yet, nobody calls my name.