Taste of the dust, beautiful salts
Components of life

Gathering at the base of an age old spire,
To amass, to become, to invent, to exist

What shall this bring?
In such a state motion is not perceived,
Time can not subsist!

Celestial brines in the ashen sands,
Defying entropic fate to become as one,
To strip the spire of its burdens and boundaries

Salts of the earth, whispers in the roots
Of a miracle's construction

The living, the dying,
The conscious, the architect

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