Light cracks through the sky in thin, cold lines. A silent glow hangs above everything, paused like a breath that never warms. Shadows drift in slow motion, bending around the pale fire overhead. Your footsteps leave faint silver marks that fade as soon as you notice them. Frozen sun, hold the light — break the cold, ignite the night. The air feels weightless, carrying distant echoes of heat that never reach the ground. Fragments of day float around you— small sparks, frozen mid-fall, caught between rise and collapse. You look up, and the frozen sun stares back, unblinking, holding a light that refuses to burn. Frozen sun, hold the light — break the cold, ignite the night. Still, something moves inside the silence, a quiet pulse, a faint shimmer, a hint that even the cold remembers how to shine. © 2025 Absolute Elsewhere. All rights reserved. Unauthorized use or redistribution is prohibited.
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