The
Unbroken Law
My
church is built of open space,
No walls of anger, form, or race.
My ritual is the quiet hand,
Extended to a broken land.
I
hold no ledger of the wrong,
No bitter chord inside my song.
For hatred is a heavy chain,
That binds the killer to the pain.
Let
others build their fort of spite,
And lock their doors against the night.
My creed is light, my law is free:
To love the world that wounded me.
We were molded from the very same clay,
Nurtured by the same shadows of the day.
Yet, we stand on opposite sides of the room,
Sharpening the knives that seal each other's doom.
What cruel inheritance did we blindly accept,
That we laugh at the tears the other has wept?
You wear the crown of the elder, the matriarch’s pride,
But you forgot the young girl who once wept inside.
You survived the fire, the shackles, the shame,
So why do you fan the fire of her burning name?
The chains that bound you are the ones you now cast,
Avenging your wounds on her present, from your past.
We trade whispers like currency, sharp as a blade,
Gleefully watching another woman’s light fade.
We judge her hemlines, her choices, her stride,
Acting as judges for the rules men implied.
We became the guards of our own prison cell,
Turning the sanctuary of home into a living hell.
Oh, sister of my sorrow, open your eyes to see,
The hand you are striking belongs to thee.
The man-made arena wants us bloodied and torn,
Fearing the day our collective power is born.
Drop the weapon of envy, heal the ancient divide,
For the world cannot break us, if we stand side by side.
To
live with honor, colliding with falsehood is a must,
To cast the shroud of compromise straight into the dust.
He
who bowed to convenience, did he ever truly live?
For life to spark, a raging storm is what we must give.
Resistance
alone teaches the true art of being alive,
Silence is absolute death—knowing this is how we survive.
A
'yes' on the lips but fear in the heart is cowardice plain,
To speak the truth against the world is our ultimate gain.
He
who feared was trapped and died in expediency's net,
Break the chains of fear today, let the stage be safely set.
Never
bow, never sell your soul, let this be life's decree,
Turn the tide of adverse times and set your spirit free.
The Epic Within:
O
creature of clay, bound by the chains of your own grief,
How
long will you wither in this dark, silent corner?
How
long will you let the venom of your unwept tears
Scorch
the very fabric of your divine soul?
You
have wrapped yourself in the shroud of despair,
Chanting
the elegies of a time that has passed.
But
listen! Life is not a stone that stands still.
This
stillness you court is but the whisper of death.
Lift
your heavy head from your bruised knees,
Unseal
those eyes, blinded by the dark.
Rise!
For the dawn has grown weary of waiting.
Rise!
For the long distances are calling your name.
And
once you stand, unbowed beneath the sky,
Do
not cage the tempest raging in your chest.
Break
open the rusted doors of your heart,
Find
a true companion, a mirror to your soul,
Or
fall to your knees before the Maker of Stars,
And
speak...
Speak
every secret you have buried alive.
Bring
forth the whimpers that died in your throat,
The
radiant dreams that fell broken in the dust,
The
deep, bleeding wounds that time refused to heal.
Rise,
and share the burden of your soul!
For
as long as you lock the truth inside,
This
shadow within you will never dissolve,
Your
agonizing pain will never find its cure.
Rise, break the silence, and claim your truth.
Rise
and Speak Your Heart
Awake from the prison of slumber, let awareness ignite,
Rise
up now, for the morning has broken the grip of night.
This
suffocating silence will devour you from within, my friend;
Find
a soul who listens, and let your hidden truths take flight.
How
long will you remain locked in the dungeon of your ego?
Let
someone share the grief that keeps your spirit tight.
Only
when hope becomes the steed you ride with might.
Rise
up, and speak your heart to one who holds your secrets close;
Perhaps
this sacred sharing will grant your weary soul its light.
Happiness is a small flame,
yet we search the sun in distant skies,
burning our hands on shadows
we mistake for light.
A cup of tea,
a moment without hurry,
a smile that asks for nothing back—
these are kingdoms we overlook.
We build towers of wanting,
then complain of distance from peace,
not knowing peace was sitting
beside the first step.
To be happy is simple—
like breathing, like rain, like dawn,
but to be simple
we must unlearn the weight of everything we carry.
And so we walk,
between noise and silence,
slowly discovering
that less was never empty—
it was always enough.
Hatred
Seeks Exposure
Hatred seeks the crowded square,
A thousand eyes,
A million ears,
A restless wind
To carry its whispers
Into every waiting heart.
It paints its banners
With borrowed fears,
Builds its towers
From broken trust,
And crowns itself
King of division.
It shouts
Because truth need not.
It points
Because wisdom listens.
It burns
Because love creates.
Yet somewhere,
Far from the noise,
A child shares bread
With another child.
A stranger offers shelter.
A teacher opens a book.
A nurse holds a trembling hand.
A neighbor forgives.
No headlines announce
These quiet revolutions.
Still,
They reshape the world.
Hatred seeks exposure,
But compassion seeks expression.
Hatred demands applause,
Love asks only
For another chance.
When hatred raises its voice,
Let understanding answer.
When anger builds its walls,
Let kindness open its gates.
For darkness
Can only borrow the night,
But dawn
Arrives
Without permission.
And every sunrise
Writes across the sky—
Hatred may seek exposure,
But love
Needs only
A single heart
To begin
Lighting
The world.