disconnection

  • The Grace Room

    The Grace Room

    You can whisper faith
    into anyone,
    into anything.

    Step outside your body
    peel back the skin,
    look deeper.

    Not when, not what,
    but how you spend your time
    this is how you measure life.

    Connecting.
    Disconnecting.
    An endless loop.

    Your purpose?
    To fall out of it,
    into the portal.

    To feel its beauty,
    dark, because it is deep.

    When your senses align,
    you will hear the language:
    thoughts humming,
    emotions pulsing,
    questions spiraling,
    occurrences folding
    into experience.

    You choose to live divergent,
    but as whom?

    We resist,
    because we know:
    the photograph was taken
    long ago.

    We are the ghosts here.

    Death is the grace room.
    We become
    the culprit,
    the witness,
    the judge.

    Our verdict,
    a compass
    for the journey.

  • Anonymous Days

    Anonymous Days

    When relationship with self
    Becomes mere convenience,
    An empty shell forms,
    No real core.

    Our true self fades,
    Lost in the fog.
    We lose our compass,
    We lose our guiding star’s light.

    Floating alone,
    In a big formless sea,
    We drift through time,
    Chained and confused.

    Each moment blends
    Into the next,
    As we wander blind
    Through days and space.

    In this hazy trip,
    Where who we are
    Is in exile,
    We find ourselves lost
    In anonymous days.

    Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.