I crossed through fire where the old gods whispered, Past broken empires and collapsed old systems, Stone floor cracked from the weight of the visions, Blue flames dancing while the walls kept shifting. Every step echoed through chambers forgotten, Names long buried still carved in obsidian, I felt the pull of the void get stronger, Like time itself wanted answers from me. Then came the mirror beyond all matter, Not made of glass but soul-state patterns, Showing the masks men build for protection, Fear dressed up as pride and aggression. Light in the darkness, gold in the mind, Lost old wisdom still echoes through time, Stars above and the world below, As within so the rivers flow. Light in the darkness, fire in the soul, Dust to the stars where the old winds blow, Seek and the hidden door opens slow, Truth ain’t found — it’s remembered below. I saw false prophets addicted to power, Crowds throwing praise while the spirit turns sour, Men chasing status to feel less hollow, Leading the blind while too scared to follow. Mind-state spirals through ego collisions, People projecting their pain through division, Everybody screaming to prove they matter, While silence alone reveals the answer. Quick shift — mask slips — deep breaths centred, Cold winds — storm hymns — old codes enter, Torch smoke — black stone — soul grows clearer, Truth hits hard when the mirror gets nearer. Then I understood what the ancients guarded — Wisdom ain’t knowledge collected or harvested, It’s staying balanced when chaos surrounds you, Holding your centre while storms move around you. No crown needed, no praise demanded, No fake image carefully manufactured, The strongest men move calm through pressure, Not needing applause to know their measure. Light in the darkness, gold in the mind, Lost old wisdom still echoes through time, Stars above and the world below, As within so the rivers flow. Light in the darkness, fire in the soul, Dust to the stars where the old winds blow, Seek and the hidden door opens slow, Truth ain’t found — it’s remembered below. I left the chamber but carried the message, Every generation still fights the same tensions, Fear against growth, illusion against presence, Noise against soul and distraction against essence. And maybe the tablets were never commandments, Maybe they’re mirrors for human expansion, Ancient reminders carved into rhythm, For souls still searching beyond the system.
