āThe One Who Found the Flameā
I wandered through the ash and echoes,
Love long buried in the groundā
A garden scorched by broken vows,
Where no more tenderness was found.
My heart, once bright, now caged in frost,
Eyes weeping stars in silent shame.
No voice, no hand, no shelterās costā
Just me, my scars, and sorrowās name.
Not like a prince of golden light,
Nor angel veiled in holy white.
He came with shadows in his stride,
With storm and soot his skin did hide.
And in his gazeāthose silver flamesā
He looked through all my past and pain.
No questions first, no fear, no blame,
Just words that melted every chain:
"Why are you sobbing, my little flame... my love?"
And just like that, the wind stood still.
The trees forgot to shake with chill.
The world, which once had let me fall,
Paused for the howl that heard it all.
I reached my hand, still shaking slowā
He did not flinch, nor bid me go.
He held it like a sacred thread,
And led me home through tears I shed.
Now in his arms, I burn, not breakā
A fire reborn, not loveās mistake.
A wolf of night, a girl of flameā
Together forged, no need for name.