Darkened skies slice with a roar,
Spirits howling through their hollowed core.
Winds of sage, cleansing the air,
Rosemary lingers—remembrance laid bare.
Thyme in the rubble, courage reborn,
The storm reshapes the battle-worn.

Rising tides of The Great Awakening
Begets a vast and final reckoning.
Floods rise where pillars stood so tall,
Rotting balustrades tumble and fall.
One by one systems of old give way
Cracking, crumbling—no final say.

Ancient control thrown asunder—
Our voices rise in boisterous thunder.
A quickening surge, the tempest calls,
No chains remain, old empires fall.
The storm remembers what they forgot:
True divinity cannot be bought.

The daylight comes, a fate foretold,
A dawn reborn in light and gold.