Beneath a sky of muted gold,
Where time has slipped through cracks unfold
There lies a place of sand and doors,
A hollow echo of ancient shores.
Wind-carved whispers haunt the air,
Through broken halls, stripped cold and bare.
Doors afar, but bone to greet,
Sand creeping soft beneath my feet.
Pillars lean, their bones decayed,
Ghosts of grandeur now betrayed.
Curtains of dust in muted light,
F...
