An Observation made within Sam Spratt's "IX. The Monument Game" - Avaron scans the promised land / Beneath clear skies, a widening gyre / The ascension edifice, an empire’s delusion / Sculpted by hollow men // Why mark frailty with such scale? // And still, he yearns: / A morsel for his craving / A sip from a sacred grail // In pitted hollows, shadows don their masks / Fire flickers, gold trails blaze / A banquet: new flesh displayed / The Reward, rare and profound // Amid hushed clamor, Avaron swoops / To waver, wither; falter, fade / Here, sacrifice made.