Hashan Sonnet

Old ruins gaze upon the morrow
Of a realm it never saw.
I watch the fallen stones in awe,
They beckon to an untold sorrow.

I walk the paths and hallways hollow,
Emptiness clutched in their claw
The ruins speak not of their flaw,
Nor of their sadness that I borrow.

Then shimmering into my sight:
A paladin, a worthy knight,
His eyes scarred with a pain of old

His armour glitters in the light
He speaks: 'Time is not always right,
And truths will never go untold.'

Penned by my hand on the 12th of Khepary, in the year 86 MA.