Maela

No promises are like paper in the rain, no bargains struck to ease the pain. Just the steady beat beneath my skin, a slow drum calling me back again.

I am yours, I keep the flame, not for glory, not for fame. I remain unwavering, and this I claim: faith without reason, love without a name. Hold me close, I am your constant flame.

I trace the history of every scar; they taught me how to love from where we are. You teach me patience and how to see that giving is the way to set us free. When silence builds up like a falling sky, I will speak in ways that will never die.

No ledger kept of loss or gain, and there is no weighing of the joy or pain—just the quiet work of showing up, an endless cup filled to the top.

Storms will come with hungry eyes; they will try to bend what truth denies. But stones fall softly when worn by streams, and love endures where daring dreams. If someday distance carves the map, I will learn the road and find the path. No hollowed oath-just here, just now.

When seasons spin their secret games, and words fall short of what remains, trust the warmth in my name, I’ll be yours, I’ll keep the flame.