Will Ryan: A vault yields not to strength, but thought,
Four symbols bind what can’t be bought.
I begin where counting first draws
A vault yields not to strength, but thought,
Four symbols bind what can’t be bought.
I begin where counting first draws breath,
And echo silence twice beneath.
I end where fortune tilts the game,
A gambler’s whisper, a lucky name.
Between the voids and origin’s spark,
Lies the key concealed in dark.
Will Ryan: A vault yields not to strength, but thought, Four symbols bind what can’t be bought. I begin where counting first draws
A vault yields not to strength, but thought, Four symbols bind what can’t be bought. I begin where counting first draws breath, And echo silence twice beneath. I end where fortune tilts the game, A gambler’s whisper, a lucky name. Between the voids and origin’s spark, Lies the key concealed in dark.
