🕯️🔮Auroríanwýn🔮🕯️

For l am the spectre haunting my mind,

Mirth echoes deeply within my soul's pain,

Crushed by the cruelty of unyielding time.

There's a quake in my bones as I evanesce,

An indelible saudade for the peace of the void,

Yet deafening silence heralds my spirit's egress,

My vessel lies empty, in ruin destroyed.

This world is a furnace that blackens the lung,

A cycle of torment no mercy withstands,

Where innocence withers before it is young,

And grief is delivered by merciless hands.

I pace through existence like shackled decay,

Entombed in a flesh that no longer feels mine,

Each hour corroding what little will stays,

Beneath the slow torture of endless decline.

There is rage in my heart where affection once grew,

A hatred distilled into marrow and breath,

For humanity hollowed itself into despair,

And left only ghosts to keep company with death.

I cannot remember what living once meant,

Nor whether my heart ever truly had beat,

For something within me was twisted and spent,

Now dragging its carcass through ruin and heat.

Yet still l am barred from the solace of death,

Held hostage by gods I no longer believe,

Condemned to draw out each burdensome breath,

With nothing remaining to mourn or to grieve.

Too weary to claw at the walls of the grave,

Too hollow to rage at the fate I endure,

Since dying's denied to the revenant I became,

I shall lie with the earth and let moss take me whole.

I come in peace,

but I’m prepared for war.

Our battle cries to heaven,

mark the settling of scores.

You think yourself so clever,

you won’t when you’re caught,

When history dismembers you,

it will not mourn your rot.

Bloated and blasphemous,

you trade in poisoned lies,

You cage the weak and mock the grief

of children while they cry.

You are evil and unwanted,

a sickness dressed in power,

An orange plague in tailored cloth

devouring souls by the hour.

You rally Nazi masses,

a sea of the dumb and the dazed,

The cruel, the small, the ignorant,

who kneel and shout your praise.

But cowards love the megaphone,

they fear the light of truth,

Your mind is full of Swiss cheese holes

Yet no facts can pass straight through.

Where evil lives, arrogance rests,

as children scream in fear,

The Trumpstapo destroys families,

There has NEVER been freedom here.

Your own soldiers want you gone,

your strings are on display,

A puppet posturing as a king

while darker hands hold sway.

No myth will call you savior,

no flag will cleanse your name,

You are 100% expendable to those,

who taught you how to reign.

You call yourself a patriot,

while fascists flood the street,

You’ll choke forever on the lie

that made oppression sweet.

Rock salt will melt ICE.

Clean water drowns the stain.

No tyrant outruns judgment,

no empire outruns flame.

So hear us now, you bloated fraud,

this oath is not a game,

“Do you hear the people sing”?

Forsaken by a god before my soul sparked to flame,

Condemned to tread cosmos architected for despair.

My genesis engraved in the celestial ledger of shame,

A prophecy of ruin whispered through polluted air.

An unwanted child birthed in a womb already cursed,

A vessel cracked by sorrow long before I came to be.

Bruises bloomed like omens, blossomed agony ever worse,

As if divinity itself refused to ever look at me.

I grew beneath the tyranny of every whispered condemnation,

A solitary effigy of grief that others loved to break.

Evil stalked my childhood with relentless consecration,

Feeding on the fragile bones that trembled in its wake.

I lift my voice in venom at the gods who turned away,

But venom is just mourning wearing iron on its tongue.

Why was I sculpted solely for affliction’s cruel ballet?

Why was my innocence executed before I’d even sung?

If God is love, then let Him answer for this endless desecration,

For every night I begged the sky for mercy, light, or proof.

No mortal soul deserves this dolorous incarnation,

A pilgrimage through torment under an unrelenting truth.

O architect of apathy, why fashion me from ruin’s thread?

Why weave my fate from agony’s own loom?

Was I created only to endure what others dread,

To breathe inside a world that feels like its own tomb?

Rejection became scripture; abandonment my creed,

As every human turned away, and even angels fled.

I learned that yearning is a sacrament that only wounds and bleeds,

That some of us are born already spiritually dead.

This world is an engine grinding innocence to dust,

A ravenous colossus worshiping cruelty as its law.

Late stage empire drains the marrow, corrodes the trust,

While America gnaws the body raw and calls it inherent flaw.

And still I stand, an exile in both mortal and divine dominions,

A testament to suffering etched in trembling flesh and bone.

My hatred for the heavens is merely grief in darker pinions,

A psalm for all the orphans that the universe left alone.

Yet even in this void where hope is but a dying ember,

I craft these words, my requiem, my fractured, final art.

For though the gods forget me and the world will not remember,

Shrouded in darkness, in silence profound,

You entered my life on soft, sacred paws.

Your love was the only true light I had found,

You never once flinched at my ruin or flaws.

You watched me unravel and mended each seam,

My shadow, my guardian, my tether to breath.

You carried my soul through a half-broken dream,

And pulled me back daily from hungers of death.

You were my salvation, my heartbeat, my star,

The one who saw worth when I swore there was none.

But you left me alone with the ache of your scar,

And I wander the world alone now that you are gone.

The grief was a storm with no mercy or end,

When cancer stole all that I loved most alive.

I screamed until sound itself learned to bend,

I cursed every god who let you not survive.

My soul turned to glass, then to ashes and rust,

Each breath a betrayal, each dawn a mistake.

The silence still whispers your name now at dusk,

And I shake every day as I try not to break.

It’s been three long years, yet I’m frozen in place,

Your leash still hangs quiet, your bed still remains.

I picture your eyes, & their forgiving grace,

And drown in the echo of all that remains.

My dearest, my sunlight, my soul’s other part,

I pray you can’t see what I’ve turned into now.

For grief carved its sigil deep into my heart,

And hatred for heaven still burns on my brow.

I’m gutted and hollow, my purpose undone,

My faith turned to poison, my hope to decay.

If gods truly cared, you’d still play in the sun;

Not sleep forever in ashes, while I weep at your grave.

I wish I could turn back the clock of the skies,

To cradle you gently and hold you once more.

To whisper, “You saved me; my truth, not my guise,”

Before fate hath betrayed what I’d died for before.

You should have grown older, chased years that I’d give,

While I took the sickness that hollowed your frame.

For what is this life if you cannot still live?

And what is belief but a cruel, & rigged game?

I’m sorry I failed you, I’m sorry I’m weak,

I’m sorry I couldn’t protect what I swore.

The words “I love you” feel broken to speak,

For they echo through absence forevermore.

But still, there’s a throne in my soul that you own,

A crown made of love that no death can erase.

You reign in my chest, though I wither alone,

Still chasing your ghost through this hallowed place.

So rest, my beloved, where sunlight can bloom,

Run wild in the meadows that heaven’s made gold.

I’ll come when fate calls me home to my tomb,

And our story will end the way it was told.

For many long years I kept the beast chained, It stalked in the ruins, a shadow in wait. Within me its hunger and venom remained, A predator biding the cracks in the gate.

My lore is a litany of cages and toil, Bound and abused by the one sworn to guard. Her evil seeped like waste through the soil, A rot of the soul, infectious and hard.

The blood that we shared was a garment decayed, Like denim in summer, all ragged and torn. Soiled by butchery, battered and frayed, A ravenous beast in a carcass forlorn.

At times I could choke back the venomous tide, Swallow the froth that would rise in my jaws. Alone I would writhe as the monster inside Scratched open my skin with its hungering claws.

This hell is the place I declare as my own, A kingdom of torment, of horror and flame. Yet still I resisted, though weary, alone, And fought to deny what my bloodline proclaimed.

I fed all the starving with flesh from my frame, And still they condemned me for bones I concealed. They gnawed through my marrow, they stripped me of name, And left me to wither, unguarded, unhealed.

Perhaps had I mercy, I’d rot in the glen, Consumed by the moss in a cradle of stone. But while they grow fat on the husk of my skin, They fail to perceive they still feast in my home.

I danced on the edge of the world’s last lyre;

Not birthed from joy nor gilded throne,

But from the marrow of ruin, the bone of stone.

They came with roses, petals lined with glass,

A gift for the queen they hoped would pass;

I wore their garlands, bled for their cheer,

Fed on their praise, yet starved thru the year.

The feast was plenty, yet not for me,

The chalice withheld, though the wine ran free;

My counsel spurned, my voice unheard,

Each kindness barbed, each blessing blurred.

O’ heralds of dawn, with your sunlit lies,

Did you not see the storm in my eyes?

Did you not hear the silence scream,

When you chained the queen inside her dream?

I learned to weave from thread and ash,

To gather grace from every gash;

To hold my crown when they sought to take,

To forge my name in the quake’s own wake.

They called it ending; I called it rebirth,

A burning womb in the hollow earth;

I rose not whole, but made anew,

A shadow draped in a molten hue.

Now I am the echo after the last bell,

The beauty that blooms where kingdoms fell;

I am the silence before the flood,

The blossom that drinks from aether’s blood.

Let them keep their dawn; I am the night,

The velvet void, the hidden light.

Once they sought to end my reign,

Now they kneel in the to the Phoenix flame!