DAVID ART

"HIS NAME WAS ELIOR"
They say ELIOR should have fallen long ago.
That its body was built for force, not for holding.
Yet it still rises.
The darkness around it is heavy.
Not empty — heavy.
It presses against bone and wing,
asking how much can be carried before something gives.
ELIOR moves carefully.
Not out of fear,
but because too much force would break what remains.
Light slips from its body in thin cracks,
as if the strength inside has nowhere else to go.
Those who see it understand this much:
what stands the longest often breaks the deepest.