Once, it hummed with the breath of rivers,
With winds that danced over entrails fields,
With mountains rising like silent guardians,
Holding the weight of the sky.

Once, the first whisper secrets,
To the rod that curled beneath them?
And oceans sang to the distant stars,
Rocked by the moon’s steady hand.

Now, silence thickens in the air,
Where voices of storms have quieted.
The rivers are ghosts of their former selves,
Their beds cracked like ancient bones.

Ye trees stand brittle, skeletal,
Reaching for the rain that will never come.
The air, once soft with the scent of Earth, is dust and ash, curling in the wind.

And the sky- once blue, once endless-
Wears a shroud of dying light,
Fading into the cold, into the void,
Where even the stars have turned away.

A world unmade, a heart unwound,
A silence no wind will break,
Nothing left to bare witness,
But the echo of what once was.