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On the Immortality of Dust
By Weltan of Sentinel
A sacred flame rises above the fire,
The ghosts of great men and women without names,
Cities long dead rise and fall in the flame,
The Dioscori Song of Revelation,
Bursting walls and deathless rock,
Fiery sand that heals and destroys.
Above the sea Sentinel shines,
Her domes agleam in the Iliac dawn.
Her people throng the bazaars, and find
Their way between man's walls of stone.
But even in the towered town,
Sandals tread tracks in Alik'r sand.
For all those born of Redguard blood
Bring the wastes with them where e'er they go.
The desert grips our hearts and souls,
Its flame within our eyes and ears.
Dust cannot die, and we are dust,
Windblown, ephemeral, eternal, all.