Jagged edges reach and claw, splinters of a glorious past.
What once was is surely no more.
Just rubble is what we stand in.
Nothing but charred, shattered, terrible rubble.
It’s all still so fresh. The screams still echo, haunting. The tremors of the hooves and the clatter of the wheels still bounce around, not off of stone, but off the insides of our heads.
Us, we are so few now. Now that the destruction has left us barren.
Oh what a glorious breath of time we had, but it was fleeting.
The signs were there.
Alas.
We were blinded.
So true. Really like the idea of the freshness of the past bouncing around inside our heads.
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