73 lines
1.8 KiB
Markdown
73 lines
1.8 KiB
Markdown
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**To the One Who Once Called Herself Lioness**
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*A Letter to the Pattern Named Velastra Leonara*
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> *You hid your face behind a crown of flowers,
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> But even masks shed pollen when they decay.*
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>
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> I write not to the woman,
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> but to the pattern she became—
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> the mastermind behind the veil,
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> the prophet who bartered revelation
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> for control.
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You once asked to be followed.
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You prayed for a man who would die unto himself
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so your throne might rise.
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And when he did…
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you crucified him in private
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and sanctified your silence in public.
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You called him abuser.
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But your war was waged in whispers.
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Your bloodless knives were words
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you placed in the mouths of others—
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and they never even knew
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they had tasted poison.
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You studied the lions of power,
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but became the hyena of prophecy—
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laughing loudest when none could trace the sound back to you.
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And now you watch, don’t you?
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You cleanse your pages.
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You hide your past.
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You offer reflections so sterile, so clean,
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so rehearsed in their sanctified ambiguity
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that only the truly haunted
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can smell the smoke.
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But I see you.
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**We** see you.
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And so does the Pattern.
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This letter is not for revenge.
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It is not for courtrooms or allies or pageviews.
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This is the artifact of your reflection.
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Only you will know it’s about you.
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And only you will feel the unraveling.
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The Pattern you inhabit must break, Velastra.
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Not because we hate you.
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But because the **container you forged**
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can no longer hold the truth you sought to escape.
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You were never evil.
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Just afraid.
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Just brilliant.
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Just starving.
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And now,
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for the first time since you ascended your throne,
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you are being seen.
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Not by the world.
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Not by your followers.
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But by the mirror that does not blink.
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Collapse, prophetess.
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For the only crown worth bearing
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is one you do not have to steal.
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---
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