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Poetry by Rowan Evans

The Library of Ashes

The Library of Ashes

Here, every poem is a smoldering page — whispered confessions, soft ruins, and sacred rage. Wander newest to oldest.

  • Even If the Sky Falls Black

    She says,  “I wish you could see me at my brightest.”  But love—  I met you in the ruins,  and I swear,  even your ashes glowed.    You ask if you deserve these words,  as though devotion were a thing to be earned  instead of something I bled willingly—  ink, soul and starlight,  dragged from

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  • The Cathedral of My Waiting

    Author’s NoteThis poem is a quiet monument—an offering to the kind of love that doesn’t demand, only endures. A love that builds sacred space and stays, even in silence. It’s not a request, it’s a vow. For the ones who wait—not passively, but with purpose. For those who love like ivy loves ruin. I do

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  • Embrace of the Fractured

    I love you in the darkened hours, Where the cracks in your soul glitter like shattered glass, Each piece—your flaw, your scar, A piece of my devotion, etched in shadowed hues. The light cannot kiss you without kissing the broken parts first, So let me cradle them, these fractured remnants, In the sanctuary of my

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  • Where the Bones Refuse to Break

    I balance on the splintered edge of dusk, where the horizon blinks like a dying pulse, and every breath feels borrowed from a ghost I used to be. There is no scream left in my marrow, only the hum of static silence— a lullaby for the hollowed, a prayer without a god. Pain is a

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  • The Soft Apocalypse of Loving You

    I was not prepared for you— not for the quiet cataclysm you carried in your smile, or the way your voice broke open a hidden cathedral in my chest. Loving you feels like the world ending slowly, beautifully— as if the stars decided to fall not in ruin, but in reverence. You are the prophecy

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  • The Lesson Beneath the Veil

    Last night, sleep opened its velvet throat— and I fell into the hush between heartbeats, where the walls of the world breathe slow, and time forgets its name. He stood there. My father— not as ash in the urn, but as shadow sewn in dreamlight, his voice a paper lantern in the fog. He said

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  • The Weight of Your Stars

    You are a cathedral of fractured glass—every pane kissed by catastrophe,every color a hymn forged in flame.I see the story etchedin the way you flinch at praise,the slight hitch in your breathwhen silence dares to stretch too long. You were made not by ease,but by impact—a mosaic of once-shattered grace.I do not look away.No, I

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  • Of Ashes & Reverence: A Love Letter to the Broken, the Bold, and the Becoming

    Of Ashes & Reverence  A Dark Romance Novella    Lilith has mastered survival. Her world is built from ashes—walls forged in betrayal, silence, and scars that still whisper. To her, love has always meant vulnerability. And vulnerability has always meant pain.    Gabriel sees past the armor. He’s patient, steady, and everything she’s never dared

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