Beneath the shadow of temporal streams,
Where silence whispers its ashen dreams.
A hand extends through the gossamer gate,
Unveiling paths where mortal threads abate.
In the chasm's mirror, reflections divide,
Climactic ascent or ruin's tide.
Each deed resounds in eternity's hall,
Carving the echoes that answer the call.
Thanatos, no corpse, but the eternal drift,
A gerund that shapes the twilight rift.
The journey, the breath before worlds collide,
Neither sanctuary nor end reside.
On scales unseen, the pendulum swings,
Weighing the flight of ephemeral wings.
The unseen harbinger's cold decree,
Binding the veil to infinity.
Thanatos... the eternal drift!
A gerund... the twilight rift!
Where the night takes form, its visage unveiled,
Bravery falters, and resolve is assailed.
Yet those who linger, who pierce the facade,
Behold creation through death's promenade.
Thanatos... the eternal drift!
A gerund... the twilight rift!
And as the thread frays, unraveling fate,
Is it triumph sublime or ruin innate?
Thanatos watches, a shadow of lore,
The verb of cessation, forevermore.
Thanatos... the eternal drift!
A gerund... the twilight rift!
And as the thread frays, unraveling fate,
Is it triumph sublime or ruin innate?
Thanatos watches, a shadow of lore,
The verb of cessation, forevermore.