An Observation made within Sam Spratt's "IX. The Monument Game" - Avaron scans the promised land /
Beneath clear skies, a widening gyre /
The ascension edifice, an empire’s delusion /
Sculpted by hollow men //
Why mark frailty with such scale? //
And still, he yearns: /
A morsel for his craving /
A sip from a sacred grail //
In pitted hollows, shadows don their masks /
Fire flickers, gold trails blaze /
A banquet: new flesh displayed /
The Reward, rare and profound //
Amid hushed clamor, Avaron swoops /
To waver, wither; falter, fade /
Here, sacrifice made.
Rodeyo
