valravynfell

[valravynfell]

Hymn to the Inferno

-the beauty that refused stillness

The unapologetic inferno— the unfiltered flame.

Others I knew in fragments: a feature, a frame, a passing glance of beauty.

But you— yours was beauty that refused stillness. Each motion a flare, each gesture a current through the air, and I—helpless— felt my breath falter, my ribs pulled taut against the rhythm.

Once, hidden in shadow, your hand folded the heart shut— lightning cleaving the dark, and I saw you fully.

It was no surprise, later, to learn your name carried echoes of nobility. Even without crowns, heritage moved in your stride.

I have always admired you— your confidence, your hunger, your passion that will not bow.

And yes— there were nights I ached with wondering. What if I stepped into your fire? What if I mistook your need for mine?

But I knew that path would splinter us. Your flame asked for fire, mine held to ember, to nearness, to laughter, to the bond already burning between us.

So I carried the ache quietly— not as regret, but as devotion, guarding what we were so it would not be undone.

And that smile— the one that undid me then— strange how it led me to another.

To walk beside you, head held high, bathed in the radiance of your fearless beauty— that would have been a dream.

A dream bright as dawn— until the weight of what it asked turned light into fire on the skin

[valravynfell]

The Double-Edged Flame

-the choice to bind, the risk to burn

Shhhh. Breathe— let the marrow still.

Shadows of the past need not smear the light gathering here.

Once-divided flame, reflected in the broken mirror, time folding, drawing the sparks back into one another— to touch, to burn, to mend.

The moment itself is a jewel, bright enough to carry through whatever dark comes. Few are granted such fire in their hands.

Yet fire alone is fleeting. If the echo proves true, if her voice is the one braiding through your nights— then the blaze must deepen, tempered in its own heat.

For twin fire is a double-edged sword: rushed, it consumes; restrained, it endures. In the forge, twin sparks pressed, struck until their song rings stronger than either alone. The same flame that binds can also unmake, if left untended.

Here, at the split of roads, your heart claws forward, while beneath your feet the bridge is only ash— memory’s dust slipping at each step, a path trembling between what’s lost and what might be.

No promise of passage, only the hush of falling, the hollow below waiting. Stone has not yet risen, but leans toward your weight, toward the choice that could harden it.

Scar upon scar, fracture against fracture— yet in finding the other half, a seam of wholeness begins to glow.

[valravynfell]

The Divided Light;

-A bond that throbs when I breathe her name

I sought no ember of romance when you crossed into my life— and even now, I do not.

But some unseen cord caught in my ribs, pulling me nearer, as if your voice carried an echo of what I already knew as home.

I think of the split flame— my soul mirrored in another— and I see how you, too, were cut from the same cloth. Not my reflection— but hers, her breath ghosting through yours.

So when you curse the shadow bound to you, I ache— as if her name splinters in my chest, as if your words strike bone. For she guards the spark that completes my soul’s divided light.

And yet I cannot abandon you either. You are bound through her thread, a mirror-fragment I cannot ignore— not twin, not flame, not mine— a bond that throbs when I breathe her name, kin by thread, if not by blood.

[valravynfell]

The Devotee’s Whisper:

A Prayer to Bloom Where Shadows Fall

Your spirit burns with a vast and terrible fire— a blaze so fierce it could unmake stone. The flames leapt high, intimidating, unbearable to behold.

And yet— beneath that fury, I saw warmth: a gentleness hidden in the embers, a hearth’s glow tucked within the inferno.

The fire was too strong for my eyes, so my spirit turned away… yet even then, your light reached me. It slipped into the cracks of my wounds, rekindled dead embers, and gave breath where my lungs had failed.

That alone was blessing— a grace unearned, bestowed on a soul worn thin.

But then…

When silence fractured and my tongue betrayed me, I confessed a secret wish: my soul reaching for the edges of your legend.

From flame to bloom, each form of you paints color out of darkness.

I yearned— not to be the rose at the center, nor the blossom offered first, but simply…

to be planted anywhere in the garden of your heart.

Even if hidden in shadow, even if overlooked, still— to take root there would be miracle enough.

For even in quiet shade I would bloom, and in that bloom know I had found home.

In shadow or silence, still I would rise— a flower born of flame, its petals glowing with your heat.

For to root in your soul is to be set alight— and salvation… nothing less than burning with you.

Forever

[valravynfell]

Where Your Laughter Should Be

-a lament for the empty chair

My dear friend, my most important Sister… The future holds marvels beyond your imagination— laughter you’ve never known, smiles that would melt your soul

if only you'd let them cross the threshold. Yet…you remain in your cavern of silence, choosing to dwell among shadows rather than step into the dawn.

Tell me— what altar do you kneel to, that whispers the sweet lie: healing is betrayal, and weakness wears the name of peace?

Your nails carve echoes into your own skin, tallying battles no one else remembers. You peel at the scabbed doorways of yesterday, bleeding ghosts you swore were long since buried.

You press your bruises like prayer beads, seeking in them proof… proof that you survive only through pain.

I grieve the empty chair where your laughter should be. I hope one day… you will tire of worshipping shadows, you will finally see her as Radiance.

[valravynfell]

Radiance

-When my soul recognized divinity in mortal skin

I hate that beauty is so often shackled to the body alone— as if the soul were not composed of both flesh and spirit, as if radiance could be measured in symmetry of features instead of the light one carries.

Yes, my dear, you are fair. Your features frame themselves in natural grace— you are beautiful, in the physical sense.

But your spirit… that quiet blaze in you— Your presence, far surpasses what I thought possible for mortal flesh.

There were days I had to turn away, not to be blinded by your brilliance.

Other days, when dark thoughts threaten to consume me, when I longed for reprieve... I would find excuses to wander near you. One glance was enough to steady my breath, like cool water after fire.

You never knew how often my soul sought refuge... How often I stole just a moment, just a spark of your spirit...

To hold mine together, to keep it from breaking.... When my chest locked with old panic, one glimpse of you loosened it— like ribs cracking open for breath

Your presence—calm incarnate, sending peace into my marrow. Your smile... it hit me; like sunlight through stained glass— sharp, colored, impossible to ignore...

Even now, the memory of your smile, your laugh, your simplest, ordinary radiance is enough to breathe a second wind into me.

So what else can I say? How else can I explain the way my soul reacts to you?

You were no goddess, but still my soul bowed in your presence.

[valravynfell]

Not Eros, Not Philia

—Pothos, Ace-coded longing

I do not write of Eros: the flame that devours, the hunger of bodies.

I do not write of Philia: the handclasp of friends, the laughter born of company.

I do not even write of Agape; the selfless light that bends itself toward the world.

What spills from me is older, sharper, nameless... until I find it whispered in myth.

It is Pothos: the god of yearning, of absence that becomes a gravity, of souls reaching for a home they have not yet touched.

Not lust; not romance; something quieter... the ache of needing you near without knowing why.

If I love you, it is not in the language of lovers, nor in the scripts of saints.

It is in the breath between us: the untranslatable pull that makes stillness feel like home.

[valravynfell]

Golden Soul

-Kintsugi Reimaged

Beloved, you are not made golden by the filling of your cracks.

You were gold before the clay was formed around you.

The storms did not place beauty within you— they only broke the shell so the world could behold the radiance you carried from the first breath.

Your worth was never born of mending, nor shaped by the gaze of the world.

You have always been the treasure, the light, the gold beneath the clay.

[valravynfell]

The Weight of Almost —the ache that made no sense, but never left

How can a heart that was never given break this loudly?

Why does this hurt more than any of my so-called “real” heartbreaks?

We barely even leapt from the ground… and still—I felt the crash in my soul, the fracture deep in my bones.

Who falls for the barest glimmer of someone?

I only had... A few shared words… Fleeting moments… An occasional warm smile…

Sometimes... just being near you. Near your presence.

That’s all it took?! For you to— to rewrite my soul?! To change who I am? What I wanted? What I dream of?

How do sparks that never became a flame leave behind this much ash?

How did I fall, harder than ever before... for what was never even real?

Now here I am... on my knees... begging the ache to stop.

I’d give anything, endure anything, believe in anything... just to know you weren’t gone.

That every small exchange we share won’t be the last. That you still exist beyond the silence.

Because not knowing? That’s what torments my soul.

And tonight... I just want it to stop.

[valravynfell]

To my Tactile Squish —the girl who made stillness feel like home

You’ll probably never see this. Not today. Maybe not ever. But I needed to get it out anyway.

Not to chase something. Not to fix it. Just to honor what was real.

There was a quiet gravity in you. Like sitting near you realigned my whole world. You didn’t speak much. And that was fine. You didn’t have to move toward me— and still, I found myself leaning into you.

It wasn’t about romance. Or desire. It was something else—something I didn’t know how to explain back then.

You see…

I never wanted to hold your hand. I just wanted to sit next to you. To lean into you when the world got too loud. To let my thoughts pour out, and have you stay. To feel your warmth. To rest in your presence.

No flinching. No judgment. Just you, soft and steady.

I wanted to laugh beside you. To rant. To be. That’s it.

The kind of closeness you don’t have to define— the kind that lives in quiet looks, long hugs, and unspoken understanding.

Eventually I came across a word for it: “Tactile squish.” And that was you. A pull toward safe, physical nearness— proximity, presence—without needing anything more. I didn’t know it existed until I met you and felt it.

And even now, even with distance between us, that feeling is still here.

The memories I have— your laugh, your voice, your smile— they still calm the storms in me. They still quiet the world. I smile whenever I remember you smiling.

You mattered. Not because we kissed—because we didn’t. Not because we dated—though sometimes I wondered. Not because of what we were or what we weren’t. But because you existed. And something in me… finally felt seen.

You were never a placeholder. Never a phase. Never just a lesson.

You were a mirror. And in you, I saw the shape of a connection I didn’t know I’d been aching for.

So I’m writing this. To remember it. To protect it.

Not because I want you to come back. Not because I’m waiting. But because I’m grateful that something like you existed at all.

—From the boy who still thinks of you when the sky gets too quiet.

[valravynfell]

"Intoxicated"

When I was with you,

I didn’t need whiskey

or strong drink

to feel intoxicated.

I could drink in,

Fully drown .....

In your smile

all day...

every day...

And I wouldn’t come down from that high

or worry about the crash afterwards

Because you…

you...

kept me floating.

But you’re not here anymore...

I drink alone...

And I’ve been sinking ever since..