A silent glow in the twilight haze,

A whisper of fire where shadows blaze.

Beneath the sky of endless rust,

Dreams take shape in the settling dust.

Beyond the edge where winds recede,

A haunting pull, a quiet need.

The ground remembers what time forgets,

In crimson light, a promise is met.

Through the stillness, a spark ignites,

A fleeting hope in the endless night.

Across the sands where silence grew,

A prelude begins, bathed in crimson hue.

Ancient scars on a weary face,

Etched by time in this barren place.

The winds still hum their hollow tune,

A fragile hymn beneath the moon.

Beyond the edge where winds recede,

A haunting pull, a quiet need.

The ground remembers what time forgets,

In crimson light, a promise is met.

Through the stillness, a spark ignites,

A fleeting hope in the endless night.

Across the sands where silence grew,

A prelude begins, bathed in crimson hue.

A canvas vast, a story untold,

Whispers of life in the amber cold.

Each grain of dust, a fleeting thread,

Weaving a song for the worlds ahead.

Through the stillness, a spark ignites,

A fleeting hope in the endless night.

Across the sands where silence grew,

A prelude begins, bathed in crimson hue.

And as I drift through the fading light,

The echoes linger, soft and bright.

This crimson prelude, a path anew,

An endless journey beneath the view.