THE SECRET WARMTH BENEATH THE STORM

You might think she is distant—

cold, untouchable, made of stone.

But you’d be wrong.

 

Look closer.

 

There’s a fire beneath her stillness,

a love so vast it could unmake you

if she ever let it all pour out.

But she won’t.

Not because she’s afraid—

but because she’s learned.

 

This world feeds on the soft,

twists kindness into weakness,

and drains the generous dry.

 

So she guards her heart like a treasure,

buried in a fortress of grace and steel.

She lets you see the edges—

a glimmer here, a flicker there—

enough to warm you,

never enough to burn her.

 

What you’re seeing is not emptiness.

It is protection.

It is wisdom shaped by wounds.

And it is love—

still whole, still powerful,

waiting for a world worthy of it.

 

 

_ Lumevea

Done