Before a broken wall, a testament to death,
At highway's end, aside a fruitless plain,
Where yellowed grasses weave to Nature's breath,
Crawls fallen, struggling ruins of ancient reign.
A town of stone and unrelenting dust,
Alleys barren but for begging crows,
Dissolves all fond mirage with tepid gusts.
Oppressive sun beats down on sweaty brow
As age beats down on all who upright stand,
The honoured Kephry name withers unspared.
Time takes all left unclaimed by Parni's hand,
Their town's once-proud back bent by disrepair.
The hawks that once soared o'er the field like kings,
By eons lamed, unable to take wing.

Penned by my hand on the 18th of Chronos, in the year 773 AF.