I crowned false kings with the gold of my longing, mistaking silence for love. But this is not a tragedy... it’s a resurrection. Devotion isn’t a chain; it’s a compass, and mine led me home to myself. I wrote this for the one who stayed... me. Not healed, but whole. Each word is a scar turned sacred, a breath survived. I am the flame that kept burning when the kingdom fell. This is my rising.
Part 1
