Spirits of Sunset

Driven by the sky and scorched by the sun 
The eastern wind rushed away behind the rocks.
Merlin tapped out by a half-moon palm,
With his tired hand drawing sandy knots.

Touch the ground, feel the pulse of the earth, 
Here where legends find their rebirth.
Where is the way, where do we stand? 
In the echoes of ages, on this ancient land. 

Spirits are calling, their voices entwine, 
Searching for paths in the twilight's design.

With a timid touch and a cautious glance, 
The autumn banner splashes and sparkles its dance. 
The spirits of the sunset howl anxiously, 
Releasing burning flames into the sky's tapestry.

The heart doesn't beat; it's contemplating
not as its died- its concentrating
crying by demon, cutting by sword
but focusing on the inner God

it's learning the song, 
In a world where shadows and echoes belong.
Where is the way, where do we stand? 
In the echoes of ages, on this ancient land. 

Spirits are calling, their voices entwine, 
Searching for paths in the twilight's design.

Cut through the silence, with fire and light, 
Answer the call, step into the night.