the smell of incense rife with wicked schemes of mad gods
Month: April 2025
wounded in the war you never fought sliding down the rabbit hole of trauma
a hallway filled with phantoms incorporeal statues of you feigning your innocence
on a single thread of certainty the eternal flame feeds
as the sun sets brittle birds settle in a glass jar to measure the eternity of night
the child you never named blooms sharp unapologetic and somehow still beautiful
eyes like bruised starlight solemnly speak of ancient ways
the rain paused in prayer as we lit candles in unlit places for the umbral deity
the gods look upon curious as monks debate the emptiness between mantras
gaze long enough into the glow of the fallen star and you will be reminded of its treachery
elancharan gunasekaran 