It's Still Life

From the Oracle —
A Cadralor: Once the Sea, Now the Snow

I.
It is coming —
the season of white,
of silent claiming,
of soft annihilation.

II.
Once, I was rain —
the blessing, the renewal.
Once, I was the sea —
deep, boundless,
salt-blooded and sure.

III.
Now, the field lies gripped,
withered to the root,
begging for rain
like victory, like mercy,
like an oak straining
in the jaws of a wolf-wind.

IV.
My words are acorns
holding whole forests.
I am snow, defining white.
I am both the void
and the thing that fills it.

V.
This too shall pass—
not as an ending,
but as a breath held
between worlds, a seed
waiting beneath the ice.