Perennial Ruins - Infecting the Swarm

A tomb made of time

In the darkest depths of the horizon

Its corpse slowly rotting away

The perennial ruins of a king

Yet only the form wastes away

What lies beneath the frail skin

Still carrying what made it unique

Stored in a system evolved to endure

Decades take what is rightfully theirs

Turning bones to dust

Leaving nothing behind

But life always finds a way

Endless repetitions of basic shapes

Among dust and ashes

An ember

Able to scorch all of existence

No movement and no pulse

Nothing to wake the ancient god

The atmosphere in standstill

Above forgotten soil

A reaction

Ever so common

Forming bonds

To create a single drop of life