Forgotten

How much this air has turned to frost without the cold.

Hearts tread through snow.

With the Hero's Forge now forgotten,

steps feel lost inside my vacuum.

Our paths we have sold.

Where is the fire that created warmth?

Where are the hands that ached with pain and blood?

The sun weeps.

The moon has lost her light to shine.

What's that I hear?

A whisper beyond the mud:

“We are here; man has only forgotten.”

The day will come once more.

A story begins to flash.

A spark for the lost.

The world will turn to ash.