I am here on your darkest days.
I wander the corridors like abandoned dust.
I listen to your quiet sobs of pain,
the notes of sadness you carry into the night.
I remain in the dark folds of these rueful corners,
unflinching, unwavering, untold.
For I am here at the end of all things,
when the sun has burst and the debris descends like mist,
when they have left their decadent palaces for higher ground,
when you have fallen to the earth in bitter defeat,
when there is nothing left to salvage.
Here I remain in my infinite patience.
I await your arrival in meager anticipation.
My sentiment is old and weary with grief.
My ancient bones grow restless,
for I have reached my final zenith.

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