
Not the End
At the edge of thought I stand With trembling heart and open hand No answers carved in sky or stone Just fragile flesh and marrow bone If silence answers, let it be If doubt is truth, it lives in me The sky does not confess a name The stars are ancient, cold, untamed I searched for kings behind the veil For sacred codes that could not fail But found instead a fractured choir Of human breath and borrowed fire We built our gods from fear and need From hunger’s root and power’s seed We crowned our doubts in golden thread And knelt before the things we dread Still something moves beneath the skin A quiet war we fight within Between the dark and fragile spark Between the void and beating heart If we are dust in cosmic wind Then dust still dares to love and mend No throne above, no hand unseen Can own the spaces in between Not kings nor gods nor hidden schemes Define the weight of fractured dreams We fall, we rise, we break, we bend The night is vast— But not the end

