When on the plains of Aroth
they fought around us,
we stood as stone,
peered down to where
green ichor flowed
from godless ranks.
We moaned:
so silly to seek to rule
these graveyards.
We stood still
until the soil reclaimed them.
All-the-same,
old stones move slow.
We roamed among their rubble then,
their crumbling cities,
bold towers proclaiming fame.
I no longer remember their name.
Do you dear friend?
We were the only witnesses
to the end of all they claimed.
I knew then we'd always be together; that,
that pain and loneliness we shared
would last eternities.
Oh, Zmitri,
remember how we stood as stone,
until we too became as stardust
scattered among their bones.
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