The desert sands are stirred by wings of steel,
As shadows stretch across the ancient gate.
The heavy weight of iron turns the wheel,
To bind the hands of man to hollow fate.
A silent spark ignites the darkened sky,
Where eagles scream and weary spirits sigh.
The towers tremble in the heat of day,
As borders bleed beneath a crown of fire.
The words of peace have slowly stripped away,
Consumed within the smoke of war’s desire.
A thousand ghosts arise from dust and bone,
To claim a land they once had called their own.
The morning breaks upon a broken wall,
Where silence falls as heavy as a stone.
The pride of kings begins its lonely fall,
While mothers weep for seeds that they have sown.
The sun will rise to meet a world of gray,
As light dissolves the scars of yesterday.
