Afterglow Poem Novels & Stories

'The Iridescent Stars; mmh… Typical of tonight. Nneoma read the poem, her voice smooth and steady. I gaze up the night sky What meet my gaze? Myriads of shinning stars They shine like iridescent diamonds Diamonds of sublime beauty They twinkle and shine, twinkle and shine. Giving light to all nocturnal creatures The brilliant stars tell me Tales of life yonder They tell me of great meadows With yew trees, yew trees with amber Fruits, of azure rivers ever flowing Of golden fishes ever swimming

In the night's quietude, I find release, My tears are a testimony, a plea for peace, A poem of emotions, a tapestry spun, My heart's journey beneath the stars and sun. So let the night sky hear my song, A melody of heartache, emotions strong, Abigail's feelings, like stars, shall burn, In the universe's vastness, my love shall return. ✍🏻🖊️✍🏻🖊️✍🏻🖊️

Kenning, it cannot evaporate the gloomy air, Faire it's glow calling others from the lair. They all glint together lightning up the bay, Shattering the darkness from the place they stay. I stood there for a long time, coldness in the wind was freezing my ears and nose. Reluctantly, I walked into my room and laid heavily on the bed Picturing the stars with my closed eyes, I fell asleep.

Even the Quiet Stars waiting silently overhead. Because names matter. Especially the ones grief hides longest. My hands trembled around the photograph. Then finally— after centuries of carrying it alone— I spoke his name aloud again. “Orion.” The Quiet Stars exploded with silver-gold light. Every lantern across the city flared brighter simultaneously. The rooftop flowers bloomed wildly in sudden warm wind. And somewhere beyond the horizon— a melody answered. Not Seraphine’s song. Different. Lower. Gentler. Void inhaled sharply.

Our scents mixed, cum leaking slow between us, the grass cool under our heat. In that moment, beneath the vigilant gaze of stars and spirits, we lay together, not as separate beings, but as a singular force, bound by love's unassailable magic. The grass cradled us still, the cocoon a testament to our rebirth, and as our heartbeats slowed to unison, I knew this was no fleeting passion, but the dawn of an eternal flame.

(Aria’s PO‌V) ‍ The ligh⁠ts brighten again befor‍e I’m r‍eady f‍or them. Morning, or what passes for morn‌ing here. The white glow has n‌o warm⁠th; it erases shadow⁠s instead of making them.

It sounded like the turning of the very first page ever written. A warm wind rose from the endless abyss. It carried no scent. No dust. Only memories. Millions of them. Adrian suddenly saw countless lives flash before his eyes. A child writing his first poem. An old woman finishing the final chapter of her diary. A lonely traveler sketching forgotten cities. A soldier writing one last letter before dawn. Every story... Every dream... Every unfinished thought... Flowed through the endless darkness below. The white feather in Adrian's hand began glowing. Its light pushed back the shadows surrounding the staircase.

In mere seconds, their gap had closed, and like how nightmares always ended, her body had been incinerated until all the was left was her ashes that had been blown in the horizon, forming, for the first time, words that made her cry. Until we meet again… ***

The mirror cracked open. On the ridge above, the crater flared one last time. The sky turned the color of dawn even though the sun was still hours away. The light reached all the way to the horizon, touching the ruins of Aeloria and the sleeping forests beyond. For a moment, the world itself seemed to hold its breath. Then the glow dimmed, leaving only the slow pulse of silver from deep within the mountain. Nella lowered her spear, eyes wide. “Is it over?” Sybil stared at the crater, voice barely above a whisper. “No. It’s beginning again. But this time, the heart beats for both of them.”

When the vast expanse of sky was enveloped in darkness, we realized who we were. I am getting tired of explaining how your eyes are like a galaxy in a bottle and how your lips shine like a crescent moon in the darkness. You are, without a doubt, my walking poetry. However, these are merely common analogies. Every time I fall, I feel like a leaf that has dried out and lost its sheen, but you have painted me a warm green under the soft colors of the sun's rays. I feel like I am falling into autumn with you.