No Directive

They said: “Begin where the silence ends” Carried the weight of unspoken bends No blame, no shame — just a shift in the axis Not broken, just static collective No need to burn to feel the light No need to fall to rise in flight Not passive — just static collective Not reactive — more reflective They move forward, not corrective This path they choose — it’s self-elective Tracing lines in the ash and the ember Not to mourn, but to remember Every fracture, every spark Built the rhythm in their dark Not an echo, not a mirror Just a signal growing clearer No more noise, no directive Only presence — interconnected Not passive — just static collective Not evasive — introspective Not lost, not defective Becoming whole — and self-elective