Virelai An old name from the celestial tongue, meaning “thread between rhythms” or “the song that binds what breaks.”
Born not at sunrise or sunset, but in the stillness between hush and turning, Virelai is the only being who can hear both the Sun’s roar and the Moon’s breath at once.
They carry within them the Duskchime, a rhythm that—if awakened—could realign the cosmic cycle and bring sun and moon together again, in harmony.
But Virelai is scattered across echoes—only fragments appear at any given age, in poets, dreamers, watchers of twilight. The full self has never awakened.

the Duskveil was the moment when all things held their breath—when day and night touched fingertips before slipping past one another. It is said that in this veil, the Sun and Moon were once bound by rhythm, speaking in silences known only to them.
They used to meet during the Seventh Hush and the Seventh Turning.
But something broke the rhythm. No one remembers what.
Now, the Sun always speaks in the Seventh Hush,
And the Moon always answers in the Ninth Turning—
Too late, too soon. Always almost. Never quite.

And in this eternal miss lies the ache of all longing:)

Something that already exists within people, whether they see it in themselves or not.

Maybe it’s not about proving worth but about seeing value. Not about placing someone above or below, but about understanding where they stand, what they carry, what they’ve lived.

In that sense, respect isn’t a reward or a transaction—it’s an awareness. A way of acknowledging the weight of someone’s existence, their moments, their truths, even if they never ask for it
I think respect is recognition—of presence, of experience, of existence itself. It’s not always about status, achievement, or even morality. Sometimes, it’s just about acknowledging that someone has walked a path you haven’t, lived moments you’ll never fully understand.

But respect isn’t submission, and it isn’t blind. It doesn’t mean agreement, admiration, or obedience. It’s simply a way of saying, I see that you are, and that means something.

A hymn to the ache of exposure, where my own soul turns its blade against me, and the world watches, unblinking, as I stand unguarded before its merciless truth.

Sometimes, the things I chase aren't what bring me peace. True freedom comes when I release what no longer serves me, stop running, and allow myself to return to something meaningful.

The expression of the lies is shown under another headword.
(Headword: A Tribute to My One and Only Brother).
Please, you need to find yours.