The Ruin Script

a temple once sacred in solitude,
now sinks beneath dust and distance.
it hymns no longer echo—
only the wind dares to mourn.
she once knelt there,
a lady stitched in silence—
offering verses like pledges,
believing presence was enough.
she spoke to empty skies;
she prayed to hollow heavens—
none listened. none stayed.
the altar remembers,
what trust chose to forget;
what her ache refused to see.
the weight of betrayal,
the silence that answered.
faith did not vanish—
it was exiled.
betrayal dressed in prayers,
slaughtered behind her back.

author’s note:
— bled by @achilleusdeirdre
— eleventh of july, year 2025
— open to criticism; all echoes welcome.
— lowercase intended for signature writing.