Release date TBD A collection of Poetry and Fragments.
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Lanterns don’t speak. They watch, flickering in the dark like a pulse caught between truth and guilt.
They said the town forgot me,
but I remember every name.
The ones who prayed for mercy
and the ones who prayed for rain.
I wrote your secrets on the wind,
then hid the proof in stone.
You built your houses over me,
Now I haunt what you call home.
Ink will bloom where guilt still sleeps
that’s how you’ll know I’m near.
No heaven ever wanted me
So, became my legacy to fear.
I never asked for reverence,
only that you read me true.
These poems aren’t about strangers
they’re all about you.
She was forgotten by her town, denied by heaven, buried under houses, yet her words bloomed from the ground, and became the ink of their conscience. — The Poet of Harpring
