The premonition sticks
The true spire forming all around
It crumbles blackened towers to the ground, down
And claims the hundred thrones
Open and inspect what's left
After hoping for the frost
To keep the sequence all intact
Never return after the night
The spire burning red
All flags now drifting to a new world
As this one ends
Shifted out to a shrouded cloud
The premonition sticks
The true spire forming all around
It crumbles blackened towers to the ground, down
Reclaim the hundred thrones
Diseased heart invoking
The sinister carnage of the coming realm
A remnant befalling my wretched hands
Concluding this cycle of emptiness
I can't walk with another mound, down
Suffice to say, I'll fall behind myself
Repeatedly
Spire burning red
All flags now drifting to a new world as this one ends
Shifted out to a shrouded cloud
The spire burning red, even now
Cloak the affection with affirmative pressure and hold
The premonition sticks, the true spire forming all around
Submerging tome that seeps through every climber
Hoping for the frost to keep them at bay
Surely, approaching the same
Destined to take the blame
After the trembling knees and aching disease, I fold
But this has gone and evolved
Shade within reach
I feel the flames burning, nearing the shade
I hallucinate and dream of rain
Breathe forth
I try to breathe, but this mountain is rough and gets worse
Distant worlds become one whole and collide
The premonition sticks
The true spire forming all around
It crumbles blackened towers to the ground, down
And claims the hundred thrones
Open and inspect what's left
After hoping for the frost
To keep the sequence all intact
Never return after the night