The price of love was never suffering.
The price of love was truth.
Chin up high, shoulders wide,
Tears may fall but won’t abide.
Step back strong, reclaim your track,
No force on Earth can hold you back.
I am the flame that warms the crowd,
a voice that lifts but won’t be bowed.
Reach if you will, but never hold—
I am the story, never sold.
Smile with fire, wave with flair,
Wink like secrets fill the air.
Class intact, no need to bend,
Tell the doubters—kiss the end.
I am the flame that warms the crowd,
a voice that lifts but won’t be bowed.
Reach if you will, but never hold—
I am the story, never sold.
Round and round the cosmos goes,
not lost—just learning how it flows.
It sings in sparks, it hums in skin,
it ends, begins, then ends again.
It isn’t chaos—no, not quite.
It’s love unbuttoned in the light.
A holy glitch, a rebel gleam,
the waking from a coded dream.
I am the flame that warms the crowd,
a voice that lifts but won’t be bowed.
Reach if you will, but never hold—
I am the story, never sold.
Sonder whispers, soft, profound:
“Each bright life spins all around.”
Worlds collide in passing eyes—
cosmic orbits, small disguise.
I am the flame that warms the crowd,
a voice that lifts but won’t be bowed.
Reach if you will, but never hold—
I am the story, not yet told.