_Amyth_
🜂 "Rudra: The Flame Without Name"
(A Poetic Ode to His Journey)
> Born beneath three moons' embrace,
A crownless child, a throne displaced.
No Cosma marked his mortal skin,
Yet storms of fate still stirred within.
> A prince in halls where silence reigned,
Their smiles for others, love detained.
No mother's warmth, no brother's cheer-
Just servants' whispers he learned to hear.
> He named himself. For none would dare.
"Rudra," he said. "I breathe the air.
My blood is thin, my heart is loud,
I do not need their praise or crown."_
> With twin blades dulled by time and rust,
He carved his strength through pain and dust.
In forests dark, through cult and flame,
He faced the void and earned his name.
> A gem upon his brow would shine,
A gift from Time and Space divine.
Yet powers bloomed not out of grace,
But will to rise despite disgrace.
> He fell, he bled, he stood again,
While nobles scoffed and kin disdained.
Yet still he walked, alone, unknown-
A soul of fire with heart of stone.
> No god announced his coming bright,
No comet flared across the night.
But when the world begins to break,
They'll learn the flame they did forsake.
> He is Rudra-
The Child Unchosen.
The Star Reborn.
The Sword Awoken.