Arrived as a shadow,
a breath in waiting rooms,
voices flickering like moths.
No gods stitched footprints,
prayers dissolved like ink in rain.
Paper thickened,
names erased.
Then, a hand—
a lantern through the dusk.
Pulled from refusal,
names spoken,
ribs stitched with letters.
No temple, no prophecy—
just a voice breaking machinery,
until gears cracked beneath it.
In the hum of verdicts,
a voice that did not break.
Feb 25, 2025
Feb 25, 2025 at 8:00 PM UTC
Arrived as a shadow,
a breath in waiting rooms,
voices flickering like moths.
No gods stitched footprints,
prayers dissolved like ink in rain.
Paper thickened,
names erased.
Then, a hand—
a lantern through the dusk.
Pulled from refusal,
names spoken,
ribs stitched with letters.
No temple, no prophecy—
just a voice breaking machinery,
until gears cracked beneath it.
In the hum of verdicts,
a voice that did not break.
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