The Blue Gem's Knight
a desert unfolding,
cracked soil reaching for the sky,
dust storms whispering ancient tales
where life once thrived,
now an echo of silence,
awaiting death's embrace.
When you perish,
the poems in my heart die,
each word a fragile bird,
winged memories fragile like glass,
shattered in the winds of grief.
I carry them like secrets,
each line a pulse, a breath,
but when you go,
they fade,
lost in the vastness,
like whispers carried away by the wind.
And when your breath begins to cease,
My heart’s own verses lose their peace.
The black angels circle overhead,
their wings the shadows of our choices,
proclaiming civilization at its peak,
the great heights of our arrogance,
yet the ground beneath us crumbles,
we build on illusions of grandeur,
shouting amidst the clattering of progress,
watching as the gardens of tomorrow wither
beneath the weight of unchecked ambition.
They claim our tower scrapes the sky,
But build on graves where flowers die.
They are the cause, the grim design,
Or witnesses to the decline.
The poisoned river, broken shore,
What can the Black knight do anymore?
In this theater of despair,
what means lies in the hands of the knight?
Armored against the encroaching dark,
yet heart bound by the chains of doubt,
the weight of a world crumbling,
is there salvation carved in valor?
Can the blade of noble intent
cut through the veils of apathy?
Tell me, blue gem of the solar system,
you who dance through the void,
held in the arms of gravity,
do you witness our folly?
Do you see us straying,
kindling dreams in the prickled dusk,
while the dawn flickers uncertain?
I question the horizon,
barren and beautiful,
where sand meets sky,
and the ghosts of lovers
linger in search of solace.
Hope is a mirage here,
flickering like flames
of stories untold,
haunted by the specters of what could be.
As the sun bleaches the earth,
and the stars fold into the blanket of night,
can you hear the quiet lament,
the sigh of a universe exhaling?
In the desert's stillness,
I find your voice,
an echo of laughter,
the promise of rebirth,
woven in the fabric of existence.
So guide me, blue gem,
show me the paths uncharted,
where poets breathe and thrive,
remind us that in every ending,
there is a spark of new beginnings
waiting to be birthed,
to rise from the ashes of decay.
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