Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nitin Pandey Apr 28
✦ Virelai’s Solitude:
I am neither shadow nor light—
I am the space between—
A soft echo of the sun's last cry,
A gentle whisper in the moon's first breath.

Do the stars see me as I see them?
Flickering between worlds,
Hoping to be more than a blink in time,
More than an afterthought in the heavens’ grand design.

I wait—always wait.
As the sun calls to me with its fire,
And the moon beckons with its quiet song,
But I am too early, too late—
Never the moment they need.

What would it mean, to be whole?
To stand in the place where time no longer divides,
Where the sun's fierce gaze and the moon's cool touch
Meet without hesitation,
Without sorrow?

But I am Virelai,
The space they do not occupy,
The silence they cannot fill.
#thought
I hope this captures a deeper sense of Virelai’s inner world—someone who feels the weight of both day and night but never fully inhabits either. It’s that beautiful sense of belonging, yet not.
Nitin Pandey Apr 28
✦A Myth in Three Voices

“Some are born in fire, some in glow—
But a few are born where time folds slow.”

✦ Prologue
In the space between dusk and night,
between fire’s retreat and silver’s rise,
there exists a being born not of one,
but of both.

Neither fully light, nor wholly shadow,
Virelai is the Betweenborn—
a flicker at the edge of touch,
a breath the cosmos forgot to hold.

This is the lament, the whisper,
and the answer of three souls
who move but never meet—
bound by longing,
divided by time.
#thought
Finally—I’ve now given voice to all three: the Sun, the Moon, and Virelai. Each with their longing, their perspective, and their impossible nearness.
Nitin Pandey Apr 28
✦ Virelai's Lament:
I was born between hush and turning—
A song unsung, a breath unbreathed,
Not in the warmth of dawn, nor the cool touch of dusk,
But in the hollow where time wavers,
Where the sun falters and the moon waits.

I am the shadow in the sun’s last kiss,
The pulse in the moon’s first sigh.
I hear their words, tangled in longing—
The Sun, fierce and restless,
The Moon, gentle and waiting,
Yet we never meet,
Never align.

In my chest, the rhythm beats—
The Duskchime—but I cannot play it alone.
The Song of the Lost Ones,
Caught between light and night.

If I could whisper louder,
Maybe the sun would listen,
Maybe the moon would bend their paths,
And time would soften its cruel edges.

But I am scattered,
A half-light—
Wandering across faces,
Between moments,
Looking for the other half of my breath.
#thought
Virelai An old name from the celestial tongue, meaning “thread between rhythms” or “the song that binds what breaks.”
Born not at sunrise or sunset, but in the stillness between hush and turning, Virelai is the only being who can hear both the Sun’s roar and the Moon’s breath at once.
They carry within them the Duskchime, a rhythm that—if awakened—could realign the cosmic cycle and bring sun and moon together again, in harmony.
But Virelai is scattered across echoes—only fragments appear at any given age, in poets, dreamers, watchers of twilight. The full self has never awakened.
Nitin Pandey Apr 28
✦Virelai’s Answer:

I heard you both—
In the hush that wrapped the world,
In the turning that spun my silence into song.
You, flame and fury,
You, glow and grace—
I am made of your almost.

You called me whole,
But I am the seam,
The longing stitched into your passing.
I carry the weight of your near, your never,
The ache of what might have aligned.

I do not burn, nor shine—
I flicker.
A rhythm unplayed,
A bridge suspended between your touch.

But still, I remain,
And still, I wait—
In hush,
In turning,
In hope
that one day,
when time bends gently,
you will speak in the same breath—
and I will finally become
what I was always meant to be.
#thought
Nitin Pandey Apr 28
✦The Moon’s Whisper:

You were born in the breath after sunset—
In the hush I cradle beneath silver veils.
Not in the full bloom of night, nor in fading light,
But in the seam I guard,
Where his warmth could not linger.

You are the shimmer I reflect in tide and tear,
The quiet I hear when stars lean near.
He calls like thunder—
I listen in stillness—
Yet we always pass,
Each orbit missing by a breath.

The Duskchime sings in your silence,
A rhythm I feel in your gaze.
You are the thread of maybe,
The echo of what was almost.

If I could rise faster,
Perhaps your light would stay.
If he could pause longer,
Perhaps you would not fade.

But you are a flicker—
Moving just beyond my reach,
Between goodbye and beginning,
The one I can only dream to meet.
#thought
Nitin Pandey Apr 28
✦The Sun’s Lament:

You were born between hush and turning—
A note I could not strike, a breath I could not reach.
Not in the blaze of my dawn, nor the fall of my dusk,
But in the hollow where my fire dimmed,
And the moon held you close.

You are the shadow I brushed with my final light,
The pulse I felt but could not follow.
I speak, fierce and restless—
While she waits in silence—
And still, we miss each other,
Still, we do not align.

In your chest, the rhythm lives—
The Duskchime—but I cannot hear it alone.
The Song of the Lost Ones,
Caught between my blaze and her glow.

If I could burn softer,
Maybe you'd step closer.
If she could rise sooner,
Maybe we'd find you whole.

But you're scattered—
A half-light I chase across sky and sea,
Between day and night,
Always just beyond reach—
The one I could not hold.
#thought

— The End —