A blade cuts deep, it splits your skin,
You stumble—darkness pulls you in.
The final leaf drifts to the ground,
No light, no warmth, no hopeful sound.
Cold hands reach out, but not to save,
Their hollow words melt fast away.
Like frozen tears from gods unseen,
They drip, they fade—so sharp, so mean.
They came to take, they came to steal,
To twist the truth, to break, to kneel.
But then—a soul still burning bright,
Chased out the dark, returned the light.
And as the echoes screamed and swayed,
The shattered blade fell—
Half-decayed.
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