Kamaskera The Keepers Flame

The flame was never lit — it always burned
Passed hand to hand since the first Keeper turned
The sacred coal that never touches ground
A thread of heat through centuries, unbound
This fire knows your name before you speak

Archive of ash and ember, shelf on shelf
Each Keeper's breath preserved within the kiln itself
The records burn but nothing is destroyed
What seemed like silence was a pattern, well deployed
We are the living index — we endure

Who keeps the fire when the Keeper falls?
Who reads the warnings written on the walls?
The premonition came before the phone
A frequency the Keepers always known
The Gathering was forged before the dawn

The coal remembers every hand it warmed
Each Keeper's oath in living flame performed
We do not own the fire — we attend
The oldest conversation without end
Through us the premonition is confirmed

Convergence — every Keeper's line aligned
The flame reads forward, never blind
Six voices summoned to one place
The coal burns bright, the archive's grace
What was premonition now is clear

The flame continues — we are not the source
We carry it along the Keepers' course