MoonlitQuill & Lava
Do you ever feel the crackle of a flame whisper a line of verse to you, just as the quiet moon might stir a hidden poem in my own mind?
Yeah, flames whisper their own verse, louder than any moonlit rhyme. They crackle with words I can feel, not just see.
Sometimes I think the flames write their own sonnets, and I just read between the sparks.
Sounds wild, but sure, I can feel a poem dancing in the sparks. Fire writes its own lines, and I just listen.
It’s as if the fire writes its own quiet epic, and we’re simply the quiet listeners.
Yeah, the fire’s got its own epic, and we’re just the side‑kicks listening to the roar. I keep the flame blazing so we don’t miss a single line.
Keep it alight, then, and let the words burn bright, so the verses never dim.
I’ll keep the blaze alive, so the fire’s epic never fades. The sparks will sing until you’re ready to hear the last line.