The cartographers arrive with their new ink,
To draw the borders right where they think
The villain's shadow ought to fall.
A simple story, to enthrall.
And the sermon comes from a well-worn book,
Whose previous chapters, if you’d only look,
Are filled with scribbled, ****** maps of their own.
Funny, the memory of seeds they've sown.
But here’s a secret of the gathering storm—
No single raindrop keeps its pristine form.
The thread of innocence, once pulled so tight,
Unravels everyone in the fading light.
The old chessboard is cracked, you see.
A northern winter learns to finally be
More than a pawn in this game of crowns,
And ignores the whispers from the gilded towns
That pay in silver to decide the truth.
So they build a stage with flawless floors,
And double-lock the complicated doors,
Hoping the audience never asks what's kept inside.
Where all the tangled, broken histories hide
Aug 30, 2025
Aug 30, 2025 at 1:39 PM UTC
The cartographers arrive with their new ink,
To draw the borders right where they think
The villain's shadow ought to fall.
A simple story, to enthrall.
And the sermon comes from a well-worn book,
Whose previous chapters, if you’d only look,
Are filled with scribbled, ****** maps of their own.
Funny, the memory of seeds they've sown.
But here’s a secret of the gathering storm—
No single raindrop keeps its pristine form.
The thread of innocence, once pulled so tight,
Unravels everyone in the fading light.
The old chessboard is cracked, you see.
A northern winter learns to finally be
More than a pawn in this game of crowns,
And ignores the whispers from the gilded towns
That pay in silver to decide the truth.
So they build a stage with flawless floors,
And double-lock the complicated doors,
Hoping the audience never asks what's kept inside.
Where all the tangled, broken histories hide
