the polished hallways have a story to tell.
they speak of trespass
and broken boundaries spun about.
there is no particular order
in the splendid resonance,
only sporadic creaks and shuffles…
only the spiraling chaos of might…
it makes ruins of once mighty kingdoms.
it bites like a sour cherry on your tongue.
but in the lonesome years that come after,
the sun-burned fog clears.
mighty pillars are seen again
and the harbor is filled with sky-piercing ships.
they have come from tarnished shores,
unknown to the simple of hearts.
they have braved the high waters
and earth shattering sounds.
once again the hallways are active with light,
the flickering footsteps of souls…
they now speak of redemption
and boundaries form tight
crushed by gravity.
it is senseless to run
through a door that revolves,
so turn and walk,
lift the perfumed veil
and discover the ancient ruin!
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 1/9/12
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