This ought to keep you occupied for a while.
The shadow returns to its homeland,
and the sun may rise for its last time.
Between lives she sees
Spirits, shades warring, and
Five rivers flowing, one black,
Down to sunless seas.
Guided by a vengeful wing,
As raging waves fight,
The motes of the burning sky,
Strong by search and guile,
Seek the thieves of the sun.
The small tide rebels,
Against waters new, with old,
But the golden ship
Carries the word to find
The sun’s echoing coffin.
The golden ship is safe, but
Aboard the ship hides
The Masquerading Jester
And the Jester’s handmaiden,
Sad sister Chaos.
As the sky rains with fire,
And swift blow the four winds
Beneath the heart of stone halls
Where dwells, sleeping,
The Mother of Dreams,
Her nightmares roam unbound.
The blinding blade follows the rivers,
Dueling against wind and mask and madness.
Light falls upon the sun’s coffin, and
The shadow overwhelms its master,
Of one who is of mixed blood
But has strayed from the family.
Our fear surrenders to rage.
Twilight sets upon the sea.
Waves and ship and word above
Will face the crashing ire of
The darkened tides of homeland.
The shadow finds a homeland.
And the rivers reach the sea.
But between our deaths the sun’s next rise
Is hid by shadows’s gleam.