The Scribe of Dust

Nothing but a glimmer
In the black
Concrete skies

Nothing but a dim light
Shining, flickering,
In the distance

Millions as one
And as the stars
The shine is
But a reminiscence

And just like the stars
Long centuries,
Long dead

Worn shells walking,
The grind
Grinding

Empty steps of former will
Just the memories
Of an entity
Once alive

But now gone
Too late to become

And as the stars
The shine is
But a reminiscence
And just like the stars
The fire is gone
The light is dying