spiraltears
Born beneath prayer and whispered sin,
an heir shaped not by love but longing,
a child crowned holy before he could speak,
raised in silk, renamed into softness,
worshiped by hands that feared what they created.
Fire devoured the world he once knew-
laughter turned to ash, innocence buried beneath smoke-
and from ruin returned a boy no longer a boy,
a lord stitched together by vengeance and contract,
clutching the last light he remembered.
Marriage became sanctuary and cage alike,
devotion sharpened into possession,
gentleness guarded by bloodied hands,
while death walked the halls unseen,
carefully hidden from angelic eyes.
He danced where darkness could not follow,
golden wings trembling beneath quiet smiles,
unaware the world beyond him bled endlessly-
for love, in that manor, was not gentle salvation,
but a promise whispered like a vow and a warning:
what survives the fire is never truly free.