These pieces feel like fragments of a whole world you’re quietly building a theology of light, flame, and memory.
The contrast between the “silver flat” dead eyes and all the liturgy around Sol, the Sear, threnodies, and hymns makes it read like lore from a living universe rather than standalone poems.
I especially love “leaves of ink, roots of might” and “by flame, we kneel; by fire, we rise” those lines feel like anchors you could keep circling back to as this collection grows.
Thank you so much for reading, Eddie. When I world build and put them into poems, the old Aeio world appears. The Hallow Church might twist those stories in their favor, so I would like to tell the story of Aeio in another book. It’s about Aeltheris and the Hierophant.
These pieces feel like fragments of a whole world you’re quietly building a theology of light, flame, and memory.
The contrast between the “silver flat” dead eyes and all the liturgy around Sol, the Sear, threnodies, and hymns makes it read like lore from a living universe rather than standalone poems.
I especially love “leaves of ink, roots of might” and “by flame, we kneel; by fire, we rise” those lines feel like anchors you could keep circling back to as this collection grows.
The descriptors used here are fantastic
Thank you so much for reading, Eddie. When I world build and put them into poems, the old Aeio world appears. The Hallow Church might twist those stories in their favor, so I would like to tell the story of Aeio in another book. It’s about Aeltheris and the Hierophant.