Vale

Grave of the Past

I speak to echoes carved in stone,

A fractured hymn, a muted tone.

Your name still bleeds beneath my skin,

A ghost of all I could have been.

The years collapse like brittle glass,

A requiem for what could not last.

I begged for time to mend the seam,

But mercy drowned inside the dream.

If love was truth, it turned to rust,

A hollow crown, a grave of trust.

I wear the weight of every lie,

A kingdom built to crucify.

The air is thick with broken prayer,

A silence sharp, a vacant stare.

I claw at walls that never break,

A hollow hymn for my own sake.

Your shadow hums in bitter rain,

A hymn of grief, a rusted chain.

I begged for dawn, but dusk was kind,

It stole my sight, it broke my mind.

So let me rot where shadows creep,

To bury all my past in sleep.

For in this grave, I’ll find my throne—