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The premonition sticks

The true spire forming all around

It crumbles blackened towers to the ground, down

And claims the hundred thrones

Open and inspect what's left

After hoping for the frost

To keep the sequence all intact

Never return after the night

The spire burning red

All flags now drifting to a new world

As this one ends

Shifted out to a shrouded cloud

The premonition sticks

The true spire forming all around

It crumbles blackened towers to the ground, down

Reclaim the hundred thrones

Diseased heart invoking

The sinister carnage of the coming realm

A remnant befalling my wretched hands

Concluding this cycle of emptiness

I can't walk with another mound, down

Suffice to say, I'll fall behind myself

Repeatedly

Spire burning red

All flags now drifting to a new world as this one ends

Shifted out to a shrouded cloud

The spire burning red, even now

Cloak the affection with affirmative pressure and hold

The premonition sticks, the true spire forming all around

Submerging tome that seeps through every climber

Hoping for the frost to keep them at bay

Surely, approaching the same

Destined to take the blame

After the trembling knees and aching disease, I fold

But this has gone and evolved

Shade within reach

I feel the flames burning, nearing the shade

I hallucinate and dream of rain

Breathe forth

I try to breathe, but this mountain is rough and gets worse

Distant worlds become one whole and collide

The premonition sticks

The true spire forming all around

It crumbles blackened towers to the ground, down

And claims the hundred thrones

Open and inspect what's left

After hoping for the frost

To keep the sequence all intact

Never return after the night