Amidst the realm of shadows gray,
Where worth and meaning fade away,
You linger, lost in realms of yore,
A ghost of purpose, nothing more.

Your words, a whisper in the breeze,
Drift through the air like fallen leaves,
Forgotten echoes of a time,
When relevance was still in rhyme.

The sanguine moon has long moved on,
While you remain, a specter drawn,
A faded star in Twilight's glow,
A relic of a world ago.

In chambers of forgotten lore,
You dwell, irrelevant, ignored,
A monument to days gone by,
A relic destined to comply.

You reach for eyes that glance afar,
A hunger for a fleeting star,
Yet your attempts to grasp their gaze,
Dissolve in air, a fleeting haze.

In vain you strive to find your place,
Seeking worth in others' embrace,
But like a phantom in the mist,
Your presence fades, a clenched fist.

No more than shadows on the wall,
Your substance wanes, your relevance falls,
Insignificance your chosen gown,
A pawn in life, relentless clown.

So mourn the days that once did gleam,
For now you're lost in endless dream,
A requiem for the irrelevant past,
A fate that's sealed, forever cast.

And though you strive to pierce the night,
To find a way back to the light,
Your efforts falter, drift, and wane,
Lost in the void, a silent strain.

So dance your dance of pale regret,
A spectacle we'll soon forget,
Invisible to those around,
Your echoes in the void resound.

And as you tread the path you pave,
Towards the Abyss, an endless cave,
You'll cry "Hail Oblivion!" in despair,
Realizing life's a vacant stare.

For in the tapestry of time,
Your thread's dissolved, no longer prime.


Penned by my hand on the 22nd of Chronos, in the year 925 AF.