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Carina Lofranco

@carinalofranco

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𝑂𝑙𝑑 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑙 | 𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒
𝐀𝐜𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 • 𝐏𝐨𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐬 | 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫 • 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐞
𝐴𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑙 𝑆𝑝𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 & 𝑅𝑜𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑇𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠
𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐥 𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫
𝑅𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝐷𝑒𝑣𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑒

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Where the last gods still breathe
beneath crumbling stone
and the air is heavy with the memory of fallen stars,
a presence stirs that was never meant to fade.
Not of flesh alone,
but woven from oath and omen,
from midnight prayers and royal sins.
The past does not sleep here,
it watches,
it listens,
it waits within the velvet hush of ancient corridors.
Nostalgia turns to ritual,
longing to prophecy
and darkness no longer threatens,
it consecrates.
For what lingers in the twilight of lost empires
is not memory,
but devotion that survived time itself.

- Carina Lofranco

🥀 by @carinalofranco

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133

10 months ago

Beneath the tangled roots of eld,
where earth doth clasp her secrets close,
the breath of ages lingers.

Here, in the hush ’twixt dusk and night,
the boughs bend low,
whispering of sorrows long unspoken.

The soil is heavy with remembrance
and shadows move as though they dream
of loves undone,
of vows now dust.

In this solemn gloaming,
melancholy doth bloom like a sable rose,
its velvet petals steeped in sighs,
its thorns drinking deep
of time’s unyielding heart.

- Carina Lofranco by @carinalofranco

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a year ago

She came not as a maiden,
but as the storm that breaks
the vow of stillness.
Draped in crimson grief and fierce grace,
she wandered through moor and memory,
not lost,
but becoming.

Each fold of her garment whispered
of passion unmet,
of lips unsaid,
of a fire once cradled in silence.
The mountains bowed to her ache
and the sky opened, not to weep,
but to remember her name.

She was not the wind.
She was the one the wind followed.

- Carina Lofranco
🥀
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📷 belleartphotography ❤️ taken in Scottish Highlands by @carinalofranco

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a year ago

Where Heaven forsakes the damned,
crimson roses keep their funeral vigil
rooted in unhallowed earth,
nourished by ancient sorrow and jewelled with the blood of fallen angels.
🥀 by @carinalofranco

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a month ago

A requiem…🖤 by @carinalofranco

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a month ago

I first shared this series with my coven brother a while ago. However, some of these images have never been shared, while others are simply too beautiful to be seen only once. 🖤

Unfortunately, elements of this series, as well as several others I created have since been closely reproduced and stolen by other creators. Given the circumstances, it felt like the right moment to bring some of the original images back into view.

A second set will follow soon, but for today, here are a few more of my favourites from this series and a very happy birthday to my beloved Coven Brother. 🖤 by @carinalofranco

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a month ago

A little glimpse into Anakin’s camera roll… featuring a suspiciously cutesy version of me 😅🤣 by @carinalofranco

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a month ago

From yesterday’s Full Moon 🌕

A little late from my side, but with all my heart, I wish you a gentle start into the new year.

May this year invite you to listen more closely to your soul, to choose what nourishes you, to walk towards what you love without fear, without hiding.

May you honour your heart, your passions and the quiet magic that lives within you.

I’m stepping into this new cycle and the willingness to walk my path truthfully, with intention, gratitude
and a deep longing for what is yet to come. 🌕 by @carinalofranco

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9 months ago

Solitude is not always an exile, but sometimes a sacred severance, the hour in which one withdraws one’s heart from hands that knew only how to take.
For there are those who do not cherish the light within us, but hunger for all it may offer them.
They come bearing honeyed words, seeking warmth without kindling a fire, devotion without sacrifice and love without ever descending into the darkness to retrieve us.
They drink from the chalice of the heart and leave us among the ruins of all we gave.
Thus solitude becomes not a wound, but a kingdom.
To stand alone is not to be forsaken.
It is to choose one’s own darkness rather than be consumed by that of another.
It is to gather every shattered fragment of the self and whisper. Though I am divided, I am still mine.
For alone we enter this world and alone we shall pass beyond its final veil. Between those two silences, many hands may reach for us, some to hold, others merely to possess.
Yet no companionship is worth the betrayal of one’s own soul.
So let the long and starless night receive me.
I would sooner make a throne of my solitude than a grave of my devotion.

- Carina Lofranco by @carinalofranco

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a month ago

The darkest gardens grow the quietest flowers...🥀 taken in Paris,France by @carinalofranco

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3 months ago

🥀 by @carinalofranco

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2 months ago

“Hide your face, so the world will never find you.”

Perhaps the most convincing masks are not the ones we wear upon our faces.
They are the smiles we have learned to give, the grace with which we carry ourselves, the beauty we allow the world to see.
People so easily mistake composure for a life untouched by sorrow. They see the finished portrait, but rarely the hands that had to piece it back together.
Behind every carefully composed image lives a human heart, with its memories, its scars, its grief, its battles fought quietly where no one was watching.
Some masks are worn to hide who we are.
Others are simply what we learned to wear while surviving what the world never saw. 🤍 by @carinalofranco

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2 months ago