I speak from the end of forgotten days,
From hollow thrones and kingdoms’ graves.
I have seen your future carved in stone,
A world of ash where hearts are lone.
You trade your truth for fleeting fame,
You build your walls, then curse the blame.
You crown your anger, veil your fears,
You drink false virtue through your tears.
You scorn the dreamers, break the wise,
You barter starlight for painted lies.
You measure life in coins and fame,
Yet tremble at an empty name.
You chase the wind, you curse the sky,
You love your chains, yet ask God why.
You raise your banners, tear them down,
Then curse the earth for letting you drown.
And yet—
Still I see it—
A hidden flame in your broken breath,
A buried song defying death.
You are not lost.
You are not stone.
You are the dream that seeds have sown.
But know this truth before you fall:
The pride you prize will burn it all.
Only the light you dare to free
Can break the chains and set you free.
It is not gold.
It is not throne.
It lives in love you’ve never shown.
The world is waiting, weary-eyed,
To see if you will stand — or hide.
To see if you will lift — or fall,
If you will rise — or lose it all.
I am Elder Mage—
A voice from dreams the dark betrayed,
A hand that reaches through the blade.
The future bends, but it is frail;
The stars still burn — but they grow pale.
Choose now: the light, the fire, the flame—
Or curse forever your forgotten name.
Stand, dreamers, while your hearts can sing;
Rise, warriors, while the bells still ring.
For love is the sword that cannot rust—
And hope is the crown that will not dust.
Choose light.
Choose fire.
Choose fate anew.
The world is dying…
Unless it’s saved — by you.
