You made it through the first layer.
Most people stop there — they get their fill of bone and fire and walk away thinking they’ve seen the whole story.
But you’re still here.
So here’s the rest.
These collections are the pieces that didn’t fit neatly into the crime scene.
The verses that came from quieter nights, uglier truths, softer wounds, and the kind of memories that don’t make good first impressions.
Some of these poems were never meant to be read.
Some were written to bury a moment.
Some were written to resurrect one.
All of them are the scraps left over after the gods finished watching and the smoke finally cleared.
If the featured poems were the testimony,
these are the unswept corners —
the places where the blood dried,
the feathers fell,
and the roses wilted.
You wanted more.
So here it is.
The rest of the Bastard’s verse,
unfiltered and unrepentant
The Inner War — Pieces born from doubt, struggle, and the fight to stay standing.
The Ghosts I Carry — Poems for the people I’ve lost and the memories that refuse to fade.
Love as Fire, Love as Ruin — The beauty, the heartbreak, and the lessons learned along the way.
Worlds I Broke, Worlds I Rebuild — Stories of redemption, forgiveness, and the long road back to myself.
The Myth of the Self — Persona‑driven pieces that explore identity, solitude, and the legend we build around our own name.