Nathrangking

Poem 29

Declarations

A castle overlooking a vast plane once verdant and the heart of a whole realm can only cry over the corruption that has turned all into a pit of tar aflame from both within and without. Skies whose stars can gaze no more upon this accursed hell flee away before they can be dragged down and slaughtered to deities that lust for the cosmos to bow before them because they are divine and for no other cause. Oceans become silent and dead devoid of even waves stirred by a lightly breathing wind. Cities so proud are hovels of murder, theft, and anarchy that emboldens the vile poison to descend and destroy whatever remains of the way things were. That fortress is crushed into rubble and the kind rulers of this place are immolated where all will hear them beg and then scream until the heavens rattle. Children are now the sport and acolytes of the newest masters of existence in all of its glory.

New trembling takes hold of the realm and wakes all who were sleeping in this seemingly eternal nightmare. An aria that permeates time itself calls forth the hidden mistress whose power was meant for only battles where hope was extinguished. Those who took this place for themselves find nowhere to hide when the music haunts their every moment. They are chilled with the mightiest form of fear. Bones become brittle and fall to dust when they so much as take in a single breath. Mighty ones find their strength expended and their minds cast into a light that pierces them until nothing remains, but a bitter memory. Constellations dance about now and nature is revitalized while the healer of reality plays the tune first upon a glowing silver flute and then allows her voice to resound in the hearts of those who were so close to falling into the abyss. Nevermore, will the corruption rise as the pure tone coronates a protector both revealed and at the same time concealed.