Faded Path

3rd of february, 2021
golden cage: first entryher eyes filled with sorrow,
in a forest full of crows.
and a fairly gentle whisper,
as quiet as a letter.oh, her mind crying wisdom,
so far asking for freedom—
to be able to express love;
medieval obligates her behove.a fabric of societal loathe
unseen the effort of growth.
behind the shadows of the days
only the moon could ever gaze.i have come to be her prisoner
under the vibrant color of pear.
middle of the red fallen leaves,
shivering dead season's eve.
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to embrace the face of the foul;
swallow every inch of scowl,
bury the skull under our cottage,
sing her melody, make her porridge.her eyes teared with rainbows,
and an angelic smile that follows.
finally found her grace,
immaculate plump lips, i taste.disobeyed the quill late,
the soul did not meet the faith.
running around the yellow trees—
clutching hands and holding breeze.the path with clean water
has deep hiden passion of slaughter.
cleared itself without a track,
forbids humans from going back.

The Empty Harvest

3rd of august, 2023a good student’s hands differ from those who are not.full of ink—from the accidents of mismark, weak and numb—from all the key caps its fingers have pressed. just how long have these hands been working?resting on the chin and rubbing eyes that have been fighting to stay open, it seems that they have mastered this routine. a freshly brewed coffee in the morning and the same thing in the evening, this hand has memorized the way it hugs that mug, they fit perfectly—like a pair. just like how it fits in that pen and those rulers, how it writes that lecture and highlight until it gets deprived of sensation.but those hands weren't alone—the eyes suffered more. they are porcelain, strangely subdued and somber, yet they continued working—until nothing was left to take in, until the moon switched places with the sun.the stillness of the night isn't enough for the mind to sleep, anxiety still finds it way to convince it to brood in a deep, deep thought. it is hard to quell panic and the weird feeling of word vomit, just how the mind has not thought of anything but paperwork and grades.the hands worked senseless and red began growing in the eyes, dazed in sleeplessness. and a facile mind that seems to have been amortized from all the time it spent studying, and lips that whispered too much of dumb prayers and sounds of frustration.all this—yet it wasn't enough.nineties on that report card were still too low, unable to meet the tremendous efforts pushed too far by the student and even made worse by the people—failing to satisfy. flat ninety started to feel like standing on the slippery edge of a cliff, one move and everything will be in vain. those nights, those years, were pushed solely into the abyss for they harvested not enough for the satisfaction, almost empty for the eye of the majority.so, do a good student’s hands really differ from those who are not? if so, why do all students feel like this?

A Missing Dance Under the Gazebo

8th of august, 2023my shrill cry echoed in the mist; it was the night the moon fell. breathtakingly performing a ballroom dance is easier said than done, but i have always looked before taking a leap as i mastered every step of every beat of the harmony. so why—why did she not attend the dance? why does it ache me like i’m made of porcelain?she held me tightly and her arms wrapped around my body like its meant to be hers, her thumb caresses my waist as she held my hand on the other. swayed it with the flow of the air—in this studio where only our feet danced freely, and the silence was always broken by the peal of piano keys coming out of the speaker. her fingers locked onto mine just as she did not let her vision go anywhere else other than my eyes—was she trying to melt me? even if she was, i would let her.the sound of our steps as well as the piano’s melody were tapping at the same beats, well, i was by the skin of my teeth. one step to the left, then backwards and— “focus, larinne.” her arms lost energy as she smiled through her sigh, reaching out to my forehead to wipe off my sweat. “let’s start from the top, alright?” a soft giggle escaped her mouth, looking at her lips and thinking of the way she holds me so gently—makes me in for a penny, in for a pound all over again for her.“it’s one step to the left, then…?”“then you turn to do a little spin for me.”what a tune of an angel, a flirty one, one that lays traps as if i won’t fall even without them. these benign sessions are solely for the ballerina exam where i miserably failed since i have always been up a creek without a paddle—special tutor was the only way. in learning, attachment is unnecessary, yet why am i head over heels for her? i only stared at her as i felt her hand take mine, observing my fingers and stroking them with her at most tender touch. she then moved her eyes to the back of my head and teased a smile.“you know, larinne, you should try tying up your hair, hm? it’ll fit you.” my straight black hair was lifted by her hand in a mischievous way.the date is november 7 of the year 2021, the night of the examination. the venue was full of women wearing dresses shaped like a pastry, all in colorful pigments and sumptuous designs, the night was young as all watched the performers with their hearts open. they say the exams were taken wonderfully, but i wasn’t there to witness them—nerve wrecking how i let myself give her absence too much power over me. there under the lights of the gazebo were my tears and ruined ballgown and my hands over my face. i have never waited for such an experience, there were not a second where i was not daydreaming about this night—i was ready to go an extra mile and step up my game.people dancing, people chattering. the crowd was filled with familiar faces, but it was hers that i was hoping to see, it was her hands that i wish would hold me tonight—but she was not here.i tied up my hair that night, she was right—i looked beautiful. if she was there, would she think i was pretty too?

Moment of Birth

1st of august, 2023whispers of snowflakes falling filled the atmosphere—a cold one, one that most of the people in mondstadt avoid—the aura in dragonspine. albedo’s eyes were rested, and he breathed in perfect beats, feeling the snow breeze caress his arms. no one understood why he was never bothered by dragonspine’s coldness—never in a state of trepidation. albedo is arcane; perhaps it was because he prioritized research before his state, or his synthetic body is solely made to not aquiver; the people will never know—but he does.in the deep cave of wyrmrest valley, where the heart of albedo's dragon brother’s heart lies, albedo’s vision was closed, but the bright red flowing through the heart still finds its way into albedo's eyes.the chalk prince’s artificial heart raced fast—too fast that his breathing was no longer stable—until his eyelids involuntarily started squishing his eyes roughly. he let out a sound of frustration as it was echoed continuously by the swallow cave, not caring if a being heard him or not. he grinded his teeth and tilted his head as he clutched onto his shirt and felt as if his fingernails were growing, for he was able to bleed himself. his bloody hands travelled to his angelic face, pushing back the hair that was constantly blown by the wind, staining them red."the time has come…" albedo thought, but the idea didn't feel like him. since the formation of dragonspine, he has never stopped counting days, waiting for this day to come—even if he conducted countless experiments to prevent this from happening. it's useless; they are all pointless. his body felt as if it was meant to fall into the abyss at this exact moment. he fell onto his knees, and the snow followed its shape.albedo's voice has always sounded like a melody, but this time, he lost the ariose flood. the next growl wasn't solely frustration; the caterwaul was a call for help—the help that he thinks no one can achieve. his voice filled the cave, yet there was a hint of familiarity, footsteps—no, the sound of the wind landing on snow."the time has come, hasn't it?" the wind spoke, and albedo knew exactly who owned this elysian voice. unbeknownst to him, his eyes widened as his head turned back, exposing his gory face—yet his hair fell perfectly like a doll’s. albedo's teal eyes were nowhere to be seen; instead, there was a pair of crimson pupils, staring directly into the wind’s soul."barbatos..." albedo called the wind, whispering just enough for venti to hear despite the whistles of the winter breeze. venti’s lips curled into a smile, making albedo's heart skip a beat.athirst for the archon’s attention grew in albedo's mind—he had been waiting for this moment. "hello, my warrior." venti took a step closer; the sight of this albedo was new to him, yet there was not a bit of horror."leave this place; it's dangerous." albedo's words left his mouth without his permission; he broke eye contact, but he could vividly feel venti getting closer and closer—until he was in front of him. the cave was free from any sound for a moment; albedo's heavy breathing was the only thing to be heard until venti’s canorous chuckle broke the silence."kreideprinz, you need not worry about me." venti sighs, sitting down to get on albedo's eye level; his head then rests on his palm, humming. "worry about yourself." the archon continued, and these were new words to albedo—not a soul has the guts to tell him to worry about himself. there, venti caught the prince off guard—yet there was not a feeling of victory, and the silence suggested albedo's lack of response. this idea reached venti's mind, causing him to just speak his thoughts."say, albedo, how many freezing nights did you spend waiting for this moment to come?" venti’s voice became quiet—almost as if he was whispering—yet albedo caught each and every word the archon said. yes, venti has always been fatuous around the people of mondstadt, but the chalk prince felt this wasn't venti, not just a random feisty bard that offers melodies in exchange for wine—it’s indeed barbatos. he's exchanging words with his god."why is barbatos’ tone so… friendly?" albedo clenched his jaw, thoughts were just flowing into his facile mind, and they were the only things that he could hear at the moment. "tch. acting as if i have not been a threat to mondstadt since the day i was born." the blonde finally spoke, lifting his head to face venti, not expecting their faces to be inches away from each other—too close that he could feel venti’s breathing. strangely, the prince and the archon could feel each other’s heartbeats.venti offered a smile before extending his arms to reach albedo's bleeding chest, but the chalk prince avoided his touch at first until the archon asked inaudibly. "may i?" venti's lips moved, and albedo did not speak a word—he was simply speechless, yet he leaned closer for venti's touch. the latter giggled and continued to expose albedo's lesion—they are claw marks and have constant dripping of blood."albedo kreideprinz, just what are you?" the god rattles, stretching the clothing for the wounds to lay bare—his eyes narrow at the sight.heavy breaths are heard coming out of albedo's lips; he's trembling—but not from the cold. the winter breeze continued to blow on his exposed chest, but despite that, the warmth of his god’s hands makes up for it. venti traced each and every cut with his slim finger. the stars all over the prince’s body were majestic—he carried the kismet of the stars."you're… astral, albedo." the archon proceeded to touch the other; his fingers were in contact with blood, yet he was still flawless. "look at yourself, hm? are you a threat to mondstadt?" venti asked, but albedo’s mouth remained shut—the wispy touch and the sensation being given to him by the god were ineffable; he's out of words. there were no sets of explanations this time—no research or experiments could further describe what albedo was feeling. as if it's only him and barbatos in this world at this moment. his world began falling into place once again as his wounds healed with the touch of his god, barbatos.it all feels unreal—is this real life? albedo couldn't believe so.albedo stared at his wounds, gradually closing themselves—he has been unconsciously letting out soft moans as he felt as if he was being made into another version of himself. this is another moment of birth, one comparable to his coming during the cataclysm five hundred years ago. once a human forged by human hands, now being reforged by the hands of a god. until everything froze, the prince looked up to witness venti with his eyes closed—he seemed like he was full of thoughts."…barbatos?" albedo’s call made venti open his eyes, and this was the first time the prince had ever seen his god’s eyes filled with desperation. he has not been here before, yet he felt like he could evoke the scene vividly in his mind. the moment of silence was ready to kill albedo if venti didn’t speak what was on his mind."please, be mine." there were several external noises of wind before venti had the guts to plead. albedo knew he didn't mean it the way he wanted it to, not in a way where they could be each other's—but every cloud always has a silver lining, and this was progress. he never believed in god yet he felt as if the wind indeed knows the way, and this time, he was ready to be on his knees for his god.dragonspine is cold, he could not wait to go home with venti.

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Larinne 's

This assemblage of poems contains a 9 different collections that includes three poems each collection. A total of 27 poems are inside four carrds which are, as said respectively: Fallen Calamity (windybureau) , Heaven's Guilt (filmlantern) and Bad Omen (wishwarlock).

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Fallen Angel

15th of June, 2020
draftedLet us play among the clouds
Just to hear you laugh aloud
Oh, fallen angel I'm so proudI want you to fly me high
We'll explore around the sky
Oh, darling I'll relyYour laugh is like a ray of light
It's shinning bright, it's shinning bright
Gold heart of mine is the best sight
Hmm, you're the fallen angel of the nightLet's touch the clouds, the moon and stars
You're the healer, the reliever of every pain and scars
Of all your flaws, I don't mind
So fly me higher and further until we reach a satelliteThere is no chance
No matter what pain, I'll hide inside
Oh just keep flying so high
Cause I will stay right by your sideYour eyes are like the universe
They're shinning bright, you're shinning brightLet's watch the stars while we converse
Hmm, hope you know that you mean so much to meㅤ
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