A dream, as clear as a graven name,


    brings to mind


    an icy tundra,


    where I saw


    in the pallid sky


    a crystal in


    place of the sun.


    Before my gaze a prism stands,


    athwart the empty air,


    As on a threshold of


    the frigid lands


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.A frozen sun


    forevermore the same.


    In that prism, light bends,


    the world refracts,


    perspective twists


    and turns.


    Those who gaze into it


    see neither the future


    nor the past, but only


    their bitter wills,


    broken


    and twisted by time.