Skip to main content

Posts

Showing posts from August, 2025

The Art

The art ain't painted in ink, Yet the inkpot's filled with crimson, The instrument ain't a pen,   To express emotion.   The art ain't painted in ink, Neither is it the paper edition,  The blade carves it out on the wrist, The fluid flows to the bowl of crimson. The art ain't painted in ink, What seems are deep scratches of crimson, It's the untold part of one's story, The unexpressed grief of the Artisan.                                         - Sam Penn 

SERAPH’S LAMENT - Obsession, Betrayal, Salvation, Damnation

  Art by Prateet, Akki, Meimei Chapter 1 – Wings in the Shadows The cathedral smelled of dust, rot, and the faint trace of candle wax that had long since melted into memory. Detective Arman Vey stepped through the warped oak doors, his boots crunching on scattered shards of stained glass. Moonlight spilled through the fractured rose window above, slicing the nave into patches of silver and shadow. The air felt cold enough to taste. At first, he thought the thing in the center of the marble floor was a statue. She sat there—no, knelt—on the exact seam where the cathedral’s restored light-gray stone met the pitch-black ruin of the western half. Nude, her slender frame bowed slightly forward, head tilted just enough for her gaze to almost meet his. Long, ink-dark hair spilled over her bare shoulders. Her face was streaked with tears—thick, vermilion trails glistening in the dim light. They traced down over delicate cheeks and onto her collarbones, as if painted there by some meticulou...