20/09/2025
"Every man nurses his fear,
A hymn whispered in shadowed cathedrals of the heart.
Freedom drips like molten gold, never quite enough,
Pooling beneath the second creator—
She, with her red-hearted berry,
A silent oracle of forbidden fruits."
The Second Creator Every man nurses his fear, A hymn whispered in shadowed cathedrals of the heart. Freedom drips like molten gold, never