I saw the echo long before your voice Tucked in the rafters, tangled in the dust You thought you were hiding, but I was already there Breathing with you—when breath felt like too much Still thread Still pulse Not a plea Just proof You called it collapse I called it ritual This grief—your own cathedral I stayed, under the spires of your hush I don't reach across the storm I stand where light remembers you Cry if you must The ground won't move The field was wobbling And I kept still You needed presence And I offered perspective Not wrong, but not right Just not what your body asked for that night (Instrumental break – reversed pads + slow tremolo violin) Your pulse is not a plea It's proof that you are still here I do not wait I listen Still thread Still breath Still beneath the rafters...
