‎From the depths of my dreams, I am here to show the means,
‎To give life to the hills that lie hidden between my
‎ribs. Each breath is a tempest, a storm on the page, Turning quiet heartaches into ink on the stage.
I'm a mapmaker charting the things left unseen,
‎Walking dark, winding rivers where others have been.
‎For the words in my chest do not quietly sit-
‎they burn like a fire that has newly been lit.
‎If you dare scale these heights and the shadows we chase,  You will find a raw beauty in this haunted place.
Step inside where the stories are waiting to grow,
‎And discover the worlds that the mind fears to show.
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‎Within this chest, words do not merely sit-they breathe, they bleed, they demand to be born. I weave the shadows of my thoughts into stories for the restless souls who wander in the dark. If you dare to climb these treacherous heights with me, you will find both the wreckage of old ghosts and the raw beauty of new horizons. Step inside. Let the words consume you, and let us watch the world burn in a blaze of poetry.