There was the soundless plunge

of the round midnight ember

splitting cloud-carved marble:

the swift quicksilver moment

 

that sparked a taper

in the some-remembered realm

 

There was the splintering

of shattered crystal fever

on the obdurate dark:

the glimpse of startled lightning

igniting white-hot necromancy

into fleeting light

that fore-felt the step half-taken

fore-caught the thought half-spoken

fore-knew the door half-open

 

But it was the whispered word

the tender kiss of strength

molten flame unleashed

that flashed a flood lamp

upon long-known forgotten lands

and time cold rekindled

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