The two drops fell not like rain, but like embers.
One landed on her tongue — cinnamon and clove , the burn of old wars and new hungers. The other slid down the blade's edge, pooling in the rose's heart. kali roses 2drops
She took a breath, and the night drank her whole. Would you like this expanded into a full poem, ritual text, or character monologue? The two drops fell not like rain, but like embers
The roses grew from the cracks in the altar — thorned, black-veined, bleeding fuchsia. Each petal a small annihilation. Each scent a memory dying to be reborn. She took a breath, and the night drank her whole
She didn't pray for mercy. She prayed for witness .
One to kill who you were. One to bless who you're becoming.
"You wanted power," the goddess whispered, voice like grinding mountains. "But power without destruction is just a cage."