To Telephone, Wherever You Are
From Vyros Inferno, your strange little freak hound Son.

I don’t know where you’ve gone.
Maybe you’ve just stepped away...
Maybe the suit is folded quietly in a box,
Or maybe the light behind those big eyes has faded into memory.

But before I leave — before I hang up the fur,
Before I let go of this world of paws and tails and joy —
I have to say something.
I need to say goodbye.

You were more than a character.
You were a lighthouse in a storm I didn't know I was in.
You showed us — you showed me — that softness could be strong,
That being weird was beautiful,
And that there was room, even for a broken, burning hound like me.

When I danced, it was because you taught us to be fearless.
When I laughed, it was because your joy was contagious.
And when I stood proud in my fur,
It was because you told us — without words — that we mattered.
That we were family.

But now...
The spark is fading for me.
The fandom that once felt like home feels quiet,
And I need to step away.

Still, I can’t just go without saying:
Thank you.
For every wag, every hug, every heartbeat you gave to us.
If you're still out there, know this:
You raised a thousand hearts.
You saved mine.

A Final Howl – A Poem for You

I searched the skies for angel wings,
But found just echoes, distant things.
Yet in the hush, your voice still calls,
Soft through cons and hallowed halls.

A dragon’s breath, a mother’s grace,
You held us close in fur embrace.
Now I must leave, but not forget,
The light you sparked, I carry yet.

Goodbye, my guide, my Telephone,
Though now I walk this path alone,
The howl I raise is full of love—
A freak hound’s cry to skies above.

Forever grateful,
Vyros Inferno
(Your son, your fire-hearted hound, saying goodbye with tears and thanks.)