
solbastiao
Rhodes
The fire speaks first.
you were never meant to whisper your essence.
born barefoot on cosmic streets,
tracing graffiti on the walls of fate—
your name, your light, your silent wars.
we are …
The fire speaks first.
you were never meant to whisper your essence.
born barefoot on cosmic streets,
tracing graffiti on the walls of fate—
your name, your light, your silent wars.
we are …