The wolves pursue in starving packs,
Their howls a hymn to midnight’s mark.
But I have learned the art of flight,
To guard my small, defiant spark.

I stumble into serpents’ coils,
Their venom laced in silken art.
They hiss, they weave, they pierce with lies—
Yet cannot touch my steadfast heart.

A cut so deep it cries for stitches,
Blood flows like sorrow on my face.
It stains my hands, it burns my soul,
Yet I bear it with a silent grace.

I call it failure—but not defeat,
A bruise I wear, a lesson earned.
The fire may scald, the thorns may bite,
Still, toward my goal, my spirit turns.

In a world where power is the
                    government’s rule,
       A boy receives a gift—a power to
                        change it all.
  The girl who grants it, a force beyond
                             control,
  Her gift will shape the future, but at a
                       cost she’ll call.

"To **** you...
Was that my fate?"
He questions, seeing
The final state.
"You lived just to die?"
He asks in pain.
                                        Yes, my life was
                                         never plain.
"Then why give me
This cursed power?"
                                        To face the truth
                                       In this final hour.
                                       In this world,
                             where ends must start,
                      Life exists to break hearts.
"But life's more
Than just an end!"
It's moments, feelings-
Just to mend.
                                     "No!" She says,
                                 "death's part of light,
                                   Without it shadows
                                    Fill the night."
"You think it's
Wordplay!"
He says with fire,
"Why are we born,
If not to aspire?".      
                                   She smiles softly,
                                   Her truth untold:
                                 "Hope and meaning-
                                   Flickers bold.
                                   To live for death
                                   seems too cold,
                                 But without the end,
                                  Life grows old."
"No, I won't accept
This fate!"
He shouts, feeling
The weight.            
                                 "If you believe in
                                  what's true,
                                  Take my life, it's
                                  Left to you.
                                  Strike me down,
                                  and you will gain,
                                  Change this world
                                  From joy to pain."
But then he spoke
With his eyes so deep,
Words that woke her
Up from sleep:
"You don't have to die
To be free,
Your the reason
I still breathe."
                                  Her gaze softened,
                                  A tear fell free-
                                  In that moment,
                                  She chose to be.

Life
Goodbyes, Hellos
Dreams, Responsibilities
Wishes, Sacrifices
Vows, regrets
Closed roads , open paths
Planned , more unexpected
Moving on, moving forward

Life
Smile, tears
Hurt, heal
Cries, lessons
Lost, love
Broken, rebuilt
Strangers, friends
Friends, fake identities
Moments, memories

Life
Struggles, achievements
Waiting, winning
Fall, Rise
Risks, rewards
Doubts, confidence
Fail, comeback

Life
Born,
Break,
Heal,
Break ,
Rise,
Grow,
Shine.

Harder to imagine, Difficult to trust
if you have the will, you gotta clutch.
                                                             -Asher Graves

We are not born with fire—
we choose it.
In the silence of doubt,
in the ache of waking pain,
we reach for a flame
that doesn’t burn,
but builds.

Some of us burn
not to destroy,
but to light paths
no one dared walk before.
We carve names into time
with trembling hands
and unwavering hearts.

Creation is not in limbs,
but in vision.
In the breath that shapes words,
in the mind that dares to dream
even as the body folds.

But even fire,
no matter how bright,
must one day soften
into ember.
Even warriors
deserve a gentle sunset.

So when peace calls your name—
when stillness becomes the goal,
not the obstacle—
may you rest with pride,
not regret.

For the world remembers
those who chose to live
with courage,
to create in the dark,
to love in the storm.

And to my friend,
who walks with wisdom and weight,
know this:

You are not fading.
You are finishing—
and every step leaves warmth behind.