Aurum Requiem

In twisted metal, a visage lies, A requiem for what's been, what's lost, what's tried. The golden threads, like tendrils, wrap and bind, A shroud of light, a darkness left behind. The face, a mirror, reflects the soul's despair, A cry, a scream, a silent, anguished air. The metal flows, like liquid, in twisted pain, A beauty born, from suffering's dark refrain. In this dark night, a light still shines so bright, A beacon in the void, a guiding, golden light. The artwork speaks, of trials and of strife, A testament to human will, to endure life.