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   ཀ  UNTAMED,ㅤㅤㅤ DESPAIR UNLIVE, 1 AM.ㅤ
       CROWNED A SCARS,   RESURGENCE. ⁺  𓈒 ཀ

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I fell into ruin, yet awoke in fire.
I wear my scars as a crown of defiance.
Every wound I carry turns scripture.

Bleeding slow across the floorboards, red stains spreading like secrets that never stayed buried. The air tastes of rust and smoke, every shadow stretching longer than it should, heavy with the weight of silence. No hymn, no mercy—only the sound of blood dripping, counting time better than any clock could ever dream.


░⃘𓏸 ۫ ׅ AWAKEN ASHES OF MYSELF.
DRAPED IN BLACK—REFUSES TO DIE.

ADORES MY MISERYㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𖤐
MARROW OF MY BURN: #HoldMyHan

𓏵 • 𓏵 • 𓏵 • 𓏵 • 𓏵 • 𓏵 • 𓏵 • 𓏵 • 𓏵


If you’re having any trouble using the twibbon, just reach out to our call centre at @STRIKEZBOT.

Messages carried by the sharp wind, wings once broken yet scattering whispers from age to age. A new presence steps in, breathing a soft sorrow—Ruerth Graves @Pzeter, sending out signals of a life more real, a mind that stretches wider, and the spark of new creation. Alongside, Mathëus Saltje @LeeKnoow stays in the chill, wrapping warmth around every wing that still holds on to its fragile hope. Each piece of work, priceless in its meaning, leaves its mark on moments worth sharing—@Trndsettee helps safeguard every hidden treasure. And in the quiet backdrop stand the ones often unseen, yet carrying the torch of resolve. With quiet defiance, they guide the tired heart back to breath: @STTRIKEZ and @TheVolkovich faithful companions who bring the courage to begin again and live once more.


      ㅤㅤ│  ‘البعث المنتظر:  (’Heavens Disdain.)
               ASHES OF MYSELF, FRAIL DRAPED.


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