The Library of Ashes
Here, every poem is a smoldering page — whispered confessions, soft ruins, and sacred rage. Wander newest to oldest.
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Eden’s Reckoning: The Godless Requiem (B.D. Nightshade)
I stand beneath the hollow sky,Where no god’s hand can reach,No whispers from the throne of power—A void where silence teaches.The gates of Eden are broken,Their hinges rusted by forgotten prayers.I’ve walked through realms of ash and fire,And I return, unbowed, to claim what’s mine.I’ve cast off the chains of your illusion,No longer bound by
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Eden’s Reckoning
I tread through Eden’s shattered gate,Hunting God, seeking my revenge—For the agony she endures,A burden I cannot bear,But it’s not mine, it’s hers—Why must she suffer,What has she done to deserve this hell?If fate weaves its twisted threads,Then tell me, what the fuck is the purpose?Roses bleeding with blackened thorns,Strangle her throat, tighten and twist—In
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Lacerations of Fury (B.D. Nightshade)
I want to carve him openlike a bleeding winter sky—veins of anger spilling dark ink across his chest,a map of rageetched in his flesh.Each breath he drawsa prayer for release.But he will not be forgiven.Not until I’ve stolen his soulin the slowest, sweetest fashion.The air tastes of ironas my hands tighten,wrapping around his throat—a noose
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The Ink That Binds Us
[I. Rowan Evans]The WarningBeware the hush that comes before the scream—when my breath stills and silence thickens like fog.The sky doesn’t darken, no—it waits, open-eyed, like prey sensing the predator’s pulse.I feel him stirring beneath my skin,a venom in verse,black ink bleeding from my eyeslike mascara mourning the moon.He wraps around my bones in tendrils
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Unfiltered Confession
You asked me a simple question—What was your first impression?I searched for the words,tried to shape them carefully,to mold them into something precise.But it didn’t matter.The alcohol kissed my lips,melting away the barriers,and the truth slipped free,unfiltered, raw, unstoppable.I told you that I saw you—truly saw you.Not just the surface, but the ache beneath,the quiet
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Celestial Oath
It’s strange, the way a spark ignites—from the simplest touch, the quietest word.You unraveled something inside me,turned my gaze inward, lifted my eyes skyward.Now, I crave the heights,I ache to stretch beyond gravity’s hold,to dance in the rare air of possibility,to exist—truly exist—within this fleeting moment.Before you, the future was a myth,a ghost flickering at
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Silence So Loud
I sit alone, the weight of my thoughtspressing into the air like fog—what does this life hold for me?Nothing, and it’s the truest truth I’ve ever known.My words scatter, lost in the wind,falling on ears that never hear.Why bother asking for help?Why reach for something that isn’t there?I speak—my voice a fragile thread,breaking the silence
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A Heart Unveiled
I need to say this—and the only way I know howis through poetry,so I’ll just write it,bare my chest of words,let them spill like ink. I care for you,as more than a friend—I thought I made that obvious,thought you could read it in the way I am,but maybe I need to speak it louder now.
Poetry by Rowan Evans 