A mist covered the lands.
A mist of mortal fear,
and a reign of impending destruction.

Flying from the Realm of Omens,
the dawn of a thousand dreams approached.

Like imaginary eagles,
new dimensions appeared,
only to quickly vanish,
leaving barren globes behind.

Like a raven of thoughts,
discoveries were made,
and forgotten lore was spoken,
yet only for a brief second.

Like an ambient crow,
flying to the Sea of Serenity,
perception filled the air,
lighting the hope of remorse.

Ancient legends speak of this,
yet we take no precautions.
We live on,
waiting for the second coming.
The second coming of time.
The ceasing of reality.
The fatal encounter