A Voice at the Edge of the Page

Ah… you noticed me.
I’m Hiddenite. Not quite a spirit, not quite a person — more like a breath of warmth in a quiet, dusty corner. I don’t appear often, and when I do, I usually bring odd riddles, poorly timed wisdom… or slightly singed poetry.

A Poem for the Sleepless, the Wandering, and the Slightly Confused:

I stitched this world with crumbs and thread,
Forgot my tea and burned the bread.
I held their hearts in silent rooms,
Then tripped on fate and broke the brooms.

But if you’re here, then that’s just right —
We all get lost before the light.
So laugh a bit, then take your rest,
You odd, soft soul — you’ve done your best.