12/11/2025
Mist Over the Fallen Thrones
When the breath of autumn drapes the world in mist, the ruins of ancient fortresses awaken.
Amid crumbling stones and withered banners, a silent echo of power lingers — the memory of kingdoms that once defied the ages.
There is a sacred beauty in their decay, a melancholic grace in the way the fog curls through their arches and towers.
They stand as monuments to the passage of time, to glory turned to dust, and to the eternal dialogue between light and shadow.
In this season of endings, I wandered among these remnants — ten fortresses lost to history — each one a poem written in stone and silence.
Their solitude speaks louder than any voice, and through the veil of mist, they whisper tales of faith, loss, and forgotten dreams.
I’m working on a new series dedicated to these sacred ruins — where light meets memory, and the spirit of autumn becomes eternal.