A mark of clawsnTo teach us. Speak to usnThe language of the vultures.nnWoven towers, they grewnAs our maps became patternsnOf what always had beennYet never camennOh how we tried not to fallnAnd now fail to fallnNow try to fail. And fallnnOne will always build from the cinder we leftnWhite walls arise from a trembling groundnWe will not stay here in the reigns.nWhite walls arise from a trembling ground