The enchantress weaves

  Strange spells that cast a falling sun

  Into funereal regions dark,

  To rest on towers of shadow and mist,

  Whose dream-mottled castle have

  Time’s spectre for its steward.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  In the silence, a tyrant walks

  In the thunder-echoing sky,

  In levinbolt palaces

  Somber and grey

  Beyond a moon

  Moated with

  Ever-withering infinities.