Upon the heights, where sunset bends, I gaze at all below,
A sea of streets, a city vast, in lights that ebb and flow,
The sprawl unfolds in gentle haze, where shadows softly glow,
And in this view, the piece I seek is tucked where few would go.
The sprawling land, a distant sight, a beacon in the night,
It calls to me from far away, beneath the dying light.

Below the heights, where shadows fall and hidden paths are laid,
I seek the mark in secret shade, where tales of giants fade,
Through wooded trails, a shape appears, where footprints oft are made,
A sole once worn, now stands alone, its hue by age betrayed.
The crimson form, it waits for me, in quiet, muted light,
And hidden there, under my steps, the piece I must unite.

A token of a camp long lost, I turn my gaze to see,
A fountain's spray that arcs and falls, a burst of clarity,
Then slowly shift, my eyes align, where banners stretch with glee,
A symbol high, in wind's embrace, it glowers down at me.
The geyser rises, clear and true, where water falls in line,
A piece concelaled by clever streams, its secret now is mine.

Upon the hill, where shadows part and scaly backs hold sway,
A twisting passage bares its fangs, where whispers lead the way,
The path unwinds with ancient lore, a wisdom to obey,
Like Eden's curse, the serpents rise to lead my mind astray.
The ocean calls, a siren's song, with secrets yet to find,
And then at last the pieces merge, a key now intertwined.

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