The heavens fell in silence, like a sudden winter frost, A prince of ash and cinders in a universe I lost. The golden gates had slammed behind the only life I knew, And in the freezing dark I sat, before I looked at you. The room was small and hollow, just a corner of the void, A cramped and bitter shelter for a spirit they destroyed. My broken wings were heavy, and my skin was scorched with shame, A king of dust and shadows who had lost his holy name. Then through the smoke and silence came the groaning of the floor, A quiet, human footstep crossing through the open door. You didn't bring a lightning bolt to strike me where I lay, Or write another history to throw my soul away. You held a fragile flashlight with a weak and dying spark, A trembling beam of yellow fighting desperate with the dark. It couldn’t light the underworld, it couldn’t heal my flight, But when it caught your face, I saw the only thing that’s right. You saw the ruin of my crown, the soot upon my chest, And chose to cross the frozen floor to join me in the nest. With shivering, stubborn hands you took the hand they cast aside, And built a quiet infrastructure where the lost could hide. We huddled close against the chill, we shared a survival tactic there, And found a raw devotion in the heavy, empty air. No luxury, no promises, no gold to pave the way— Just two anomalies who swore that they would choose to stay. And every grueling second was as beautiful as the last, An intimate, heartbreaking truth inside the shadow cast. We wrote the gritty chapters of the life we had to find, And left the expectations of a perfect world behind. The love became the bedrock of the empire we would raise, A fire sparked in freezing dark to light up all our days. I learned that hell has heartbeats, and they fall in time with yours, A sanctuary stronger than their high and holy doors. The rooms are grand and warmer now, the lights are bright and clear, A monument to every night we conquered through the fear. But triumphs aren't the kingdoms or the glory of the crown, It’s knowing we are standing where they thought we’d surely drown. Out of the vast, expansive space that we have come to own, I only want the pocket of your air, and yours alone. The flashlight may be dark and gone, the floorboards may be still, But we became the permanent warmth against the winter chill.
