I fell through fire that had no floor,
Each gate below revealed one more.
But fear has vanished in the flame—
For I have plunged so far below,
The end now feels like coming home.

- Niko Randeni

My mind’s a storm behind calm eyes,
A Silent sea where tempests rise-
It dreams in fire, it thinks in frost,
It counts each gain, recalls each loss.

It builds a wall from broken stone,
Yet walk through crowds and feel alone.
A cage, a key, a whispered spell-
My mind is heaven, and sometimes hell

- Niko Randeni

A crown sits crooked on my dome,
A throne forged not of gold, but grief and wrath.
My court is ruled by foreign ghosts,
And love once mine now haunts these halls.

Yet still I wear the crown of ruin—
For all I touch turns not to gold, but ash.

- Niko Randeni

I wander through a graveyard of tombs I once knew,
Where headstones bear names the wind once blew-
Loves lost, dreams that died,
Whispers buried, too deep to recall.

Beneath my feet, the path is lost to time,
Yet they step to some ancient rhyme
I walk not towards fate, but to echo what once was

- Niko Randeni

Wasn’t cast with fire in my breath,
But forged to survive free of bowing to the leash.
For Liberty lives, where mercy dies-
And every step is paid in flesh

Seeking to break the chains of lesser men,
And shape my soul in shadow’s flame,
If I found peace in violent ends,
Then let the saints and ghosts contend-
For resolution bleeds in freedom’s name

- Niko Randeni

Forged in a pit of fire I never fled,
Where serpents hiss and savages roar.
Though I reaped them all with bloodied hands,
Bit in the hunt— my soul turned to war

The venom corrupted my helm—
But dared to touch my realm.
The flames still chain me, burning me slow,
Yet I hold the scorch- waiting for the skies to cry

- Niko Randeni

Had footsteps followed the path of sleeping men,
Bound to comfort, blind to soul, content within the kennel,
Life might have passed in soft, untroubled grace—
No mirror held to the psyche,
No voice to question where or when.

But unknown are carved by fire, not fate,
Cast to leave a mark—through affinity or animosity.
The journey twists through pain and ash,
Where silence breaks, and masks are torn—
And none retain the soul they bore

For even the strong may come to loathe
The face that rises when the fire goes cold.

- Niko Randeni