The Runic Template

Where Your Story Cracks

Where whispers of past lives once flew,

And tales, now in pieces, lay strewn,

The Chasm did claim,

Each memory’s flame,

As the mind’s grasp withdrew from its due.

From chaos, a light, cold and grand,

Led to halls built by unseen hand.

With pillars so tall,

Reflecting light’s call,

A new order did silently stand.

Through patterns that glowed on the floor,

Past sentinels from primal lore,

The vast Lumina’s heart,

Played a silent, new part,

Drawing senses to seek something more.

Then the Passage, so long and serene,

With high walls where old glyphs convene.

A mirror-like path,

Avoided all wrath,

To a choice that awaited, unseen.