Upon this weary world of dreams,

  Death follows life, or so it seems,

  but one thing does evade this doom:

  I speak now of the Everbloom.

  In other worlds, on other moons,

  With stars wrapped up in void cocoons

  To us mere fragile motes of light,

  Across vast distances of night.

  A thing of light and gentle cold

  in starlight echoes, blue and gold

  Etched with magic and strange runes,

  an entity from distant moons,

  Through empty space in silence flew

  Then it took root midst morning dew,

  it seeded here and found its birth,

  Stolen story; please report.

  in silent hollows 'neath the earth.

  It flowered the following morn,

  And cold spread out that fateful dawn,

  And Winter came in frost and rime,

  freezing hope, light and even time.

  I watched it flower from afar,

  that cold bloom from a distant star

  And felt the touch of icy breath,

  the silence on the winds of death.

  Gone now is the grief of change

  In stasis now, mundane and strange

  In icy coffins, great and small

  The Everbloom has frozen all.

  Death and silence, all untold,

  and I feel now the gathering cold,

  The world will die in icy gloom,

  Swallowed whole by the Everbloom.

  Yes, all things fade, and all things die,

  in silence 'neath that wretched sky,

  But one thing will evade that doom:

  I speak now of the Everbloom.