Fragile Flame

Fame is a common hunger — admiration rented by the hour, a name that echoes until the hall forgets why.

You want legacy, not anecdote. You fear the mundane more than the cost of glare.

Renown is difficult merchandise. It demands acknowledgment that astounds, then sends the crowd home with opinions about your soul.

Wealth shows up in the stain — luxury read as immoral because visibility invites verdict.

Still the ambition simmers beneath the spirit, born with the need to be warmed by strangers who cannot know you.

Fame is joy and sorrow in one mouth. The flame is fragile. Feed it wrong and you light yourself.

The flame still flickers. You still choose the wick.

JV · Dark Heart Labs