These fading phantom flames

Now feed upon the ghost-lights of unearthly

dreams

one hope borne within many

one will beneath the deep and the dark

of the Nightward Sea.

One death, one life,

one truth, one eternity

And one annihilation.

They rise now, twilight phantasms

from noon-day dreams,

unveiled from a quiet

sanctuary,

suspended in the solitary dome

of some arcane and deserted fane,

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ghost flames drifting in the night sky,

each bearing the voices of the lost

and the forsaken

from some untimely tombs

with reverence raised

to the dream of the gentle and the brave,

but the charmed eddies of autumn winds

now swirl the mouldering leaves,

and rustle in a soft whisper,

the echoes of a dreamt-of fate:

Here we lived, we loved, we dreamed

we died,

and are remembered,

the foolish flame

of our ambition,

emboldened to seek out truth

and define the madness of the world

as a thing conquered and destroyed

by the resolve of our immortal spirits.

Burn now,

forever imperishable

you fallen,

you dead who dream on,

While we languish

in our brief,

collapsing utopias.

One day, we will burn together,

a foolish flame ,

flickering and dying

in the silence.