Poems

Godmother’s LullabyWhisperDream, little ember, as long as you can hide your hurt in sleep,Dreamwhile I stand watching at the doorway,becausewhen you wakeyou wake aloneand nothing you were promisedever comes for free.

Epilogue The Hatter’s Reflection The Hatter sat where the corridors of the in-between knotted together, in a room that wasn’t really a room—just a pocket of dark so thick even echoes dragged their feet. The last traces of Elise’s defiance still clung to the air, thin as smoke after a house fire, the kind that

Eternal ShadowsOutroHe vents to smoke that cannot hold a threat,She leaves with iron breathand debtless step.

Fragments of the PastStep through the fractures, face the scars,The past’s a prison behind thebars.No chains will hold, no shadows bind,I’ll break away and claim my mind. Each shard reflects a life undone,The doubts I’ve faced,the battles won.Through every jagged, bitter view,I see the path I must pursue. The echoes fade, the fragments still,Yet I

Door to TomorrowThrough the ash, through the sorrow’s sting,I’ll find the strength your lovecan bring.The music hums, the door unfolds,A fragile bridge to dreams untold. Time may steal the hands we held,But it cannot erase the love we spelled.Your story lingers, etched in the sky,A beacon where the shadows lie.Thekey turns slow, the melody soars,A

Echoes on the Crooked PathWalk the crooked mile beside,Where truth and terror intertwine.Through the dark,the veils divide,And leave the lies we’ve walked behind. The ground it shifts, the skies collide,A storm of grief I’ve heldinside.But even through the shattered air,I find my way; I know it’s there. The crooked path is where we meet,Where fearand

Devil’s LullabyOutroEchoes scrape the silver framesand fail to make her turn,She leaves a spinning devil grinning at a lossthat learned.

Demon EaterI was raised on cracked pavement and the echo of a slamming door,streetlight baptism, learned real fast what pain was for.They fed us fear like doctrine, said behave, obey, repeat,I learned how to bare my teeth before they even learned to speak. I’ve got smoke in my lungs and a spine of stone,every scar

Crooked’s Lost Receipt Book He always thought of himself as small-time, which was the funniest lie he ever told himself,because a lifetime of “it’s only a little” stacks up faster than interest in a rigged loan book on the wrong shelf.Never robbed a bank, never held a weapon to a head,but he skimmed petty cash,

Curiouser and Curiouser“Curiouser and curiouser,” the melody calls,Through endless nights,as the mystery sprawls.A puzzle bound in fractured time,The echoes rise,a haunting rhyme. Through worlds unknown, the notes unfold,a path I cannot stray,A thread of hope through tangled fears,where secrets mark the way.Its song unbinds the locks of fate,though peril lies ahead,Each step I take through