The aftermath of the original poem True Spirit

Silent echoes remain
In this desolate space
Where joy has become a stain
In the absence of its grace.

The walls are now stained
With the blood of those who tried
To breach the tower’s domain
And to reach the other side.

The guards remain steadfast
In their duty to keep watch
Their emotions held in contrast
To the pain and grief they’ve wrought.

But beyond the tower’s walls
Lies a world without color
Where darkness steadily crawls
And hope is but a dull murmur.

The aftermath of this battle
Is a reminder of what’s at stake
That our emotions can rattle
The foundations of what we make.

So we must tread with care
As we navigate this path
And beware the weight we bear
In the aftermath of our wrath.