II. The Crystalline Gorge
The gorge yawned wide, a cavernous rictus blue,
With stalactites like frozen screams of glass;
The air was viscous, a pellucid dew
That shimmering phantasmagoria would amass.
He walked the knife-edge of a diamond spar,
Midst coruscating mists of argent breath,
While high above, a lonely cinnabar star
Winked coldly at the pageantry of death.
No vernacular could map this jagged térrain,
Where syntax shattered into shards of salt;
He felt the pressure of a celestial pain
Within the boundaries of the azure vault.
Yet forward pressed the weary Onomast,
Leaving the wreckage of the known behind at last.
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