She awoke to an unexpected wave of emotion — a soft unraveling at dawn. Beneath the tears was a grief not for someone, but for something ancient and near-forgotten: innocence. That unarmored state of being, untouched by fear, story, or the weight of memory.
From this tender reckoning emerged a poem — a remembrance wrapped in quiet devotion. Innocence becomes both invocation and mirror: a return to wonder, to the sparkle of morning dew, to the heart before the walls were built.
This transmission is not a performance. It is a flame carried from the fire’s edge — an offering from the one who speaks through ash and ember. May those who listen remember the world before the wounding… and choose to create it once more.