The Ruins

It is day but it will soon be night, the sun and the moon must continue their eternal fight. When it concludes, none may know. The seekers shall seek and the watchers shall watch. As the days come and go. Where craniums break through barriers of spent flesh, and worms blindly track their highways, as the truth slips away. All that remains, all that is left, are the ruins of life, no marrow, just the remnants are kept. To begin is to end as a foe or a friend. To end is to begin, in a temple unseen. The revolution is celestial, there is no pause; and no rehearsal. Though through the mist, cracks appear, and the screen is no longer unclear, the seal is given and mysteries need believing. Thus while history continues grieving, all entries arrive just as they are leaving.