A Crack in Open Tombs
As caverns crawl with twisted rage my saunter pulls to chain. Think not where dull minds scribe as mage. Reap kindle from thwart's flame.
Bid question, but loom not for choice. Our threads reign slow in might. Nocturne does weep a strangled voice. Still, “Blaspheme!” rues my light.
Written July 26, 2026. © 2026 AnOublietteofThought.