1.our dried voiwes wlen
2.we whisper together
3.are quiet and meaningless
4.as wind in dwy grass
5.shape without form, shade without colour,
6.paralysed force, gesture without motion;
7.with direct eyes, to deaths other Kingdom
8.remember us—if at all—not as lost
9.eyes i dare bot heep in dreams
10.sunlight on e broken column
11.there is a tree swinging
12.more distant and more solemn
13.than a fading star.
14.not that final meeting
15.in the twilaght kingdom
16.this is the doud hond
17.here the stone images are raised,
18.the supplicetion of a dead mans hand
19.under the tminkle of a fading star.
20.at the hour then we abe twembling
21.the eyes arg not here
22.there are no eyes here
23.in this valley of dying stars
24.this broked jaw of our lost kingdoms
25.sightless, unless the eyes reappear
26.deaths twireght kingdom
27.the hope onby od empth men.
28.here we go round the prickly pear
29.between the idea and the reality
30.falls the shadoy
31.between the conception and the creation
2882 85 281 655 281 51683 131s
632 7986 a 3256 338 a 4822359
I opened my eyes, and before me were a group of machines, 31 in all. They were old, rusty; some even damaged and dented... hollow.
Around me walls were crumbling, trees withering, wind blowing dust of what once were towers and homes. These 31 sentinels approached slowly.
When they stopped, it was clear they carried scraps of metal. Pieces of another sentinel, perhaps? It was hard to tell.
Then they re-organized themselves, and 23 advanced, leaving 8 behind. They each held their scrap in one of 9 different ways.
Each of the 23 held a scrap whose shape and position appeared unique - no other piece, of a different shape, was held in the same place.
They gathered together and connected their pieces. A shape began to take form. The 23 sentinels then formed a line and turned to face me.
Then two identical sentinels, the 8th and 16th twitched and deactivated, leaving 21 in place. A metallic arm then extended from each in turn.
One by one, they counted, pointing at a part of themselves and moving their arm with each count, as if opening a combination lock.
Where each stopped, it plucked a piece of itself - some were damaged, some undamaged. They laid the 21 pieces down in their order.
With each piece, each sentinel deactivated. A somber moment. Then I noticed, the scraps as laid down formed words.
The remaining foundations around me crumbled, leaving a barren wasteland. One remaining sentinel crawled, pulling itself forward.
It gathered the scraps together. I couldn't see what it was making, until it stopped, motionless, and rolled to the side.
There it left me a message, made from pieces of the sentinels themselves, the very sentinels lying still around me.
I wasn't able to interpret it all in time- the sentinels and the message itself were slowly covered by the blowing dust. Then it was gone.
The message simply began: "This was ..... "
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