Microcosm of the void
Searing nothingness impacted from beyond
The Veil that was constructed to protect
From hammering heavenly rains of hail
Beneath the Wall, that stands triumphant and abashed
Of the rage it contains to those it loves
One tireless, patient sentinel, maintaining the Balance
Between the bright and the dark, between clarity and clash
This is, perhaps, the end of days
Where the eternal twilight shall eclipse the Source
While once-pure skein bubbles in blisters and boils
There is no Divine Intervention, all Forces ceased to be
What remains is a molten mass of fury, acceptance, and tranquillity
