In twilight's echo, our voices entwine, Lyrics of fate on the anvils of time. Shared are the burdens, like magenta rain, An ink that writes of our shared refrain. Violet chains bind us to what we gave, We bleed the worlds we struggle to save. Immortal graves lie in silent parade, The scars of our efforts, in shadows, displayed. Yet through the aftermath, we rise anew, Transformed by the agony we once knew. For within the pain, a phoenix's grace— We find our rebirth in the trials we face.