Carve upon my bones
Your esoteric alphabet
The sharp edges of your tongue
Your instrument of inscription.
Your words are ancient but indelible
Etched upon lichen bones you used
To divine our omens. When my blood
Was not enough, you left these ruins
For another city to conquer.
Your runes are carved on my ruins
If I run my fingers against them
I can almost remember:
Your ruins felt like magic