Among the vast, adorned and proud,  
A tender soul shines through the crowd.  
No crown can gild a heavy heart,  
True grace resides where egos part.  
The humble step on lofty stairs,  
Their quiet strength, the world declares.  
For beauty grows where pretense flees,  
And simple hearts move like soft seas.

Sweet begins the heart's embrace,  
Joyful chatter, a fleeting grace.  
Chewing truths, the zest will fade,  
Echoes linger where bonds were made.  

Tasteless whispers haunt the air,  
Once was vibrant, now laid bare.  
People’s sweetness, a transient art,  
Gone, yet sticks to the waiting heart.

They pour water on the white goat’s head,
pretending it nods in consent
before the priest opens its throat,
clean as a hymn.

But me
I am stripped of ritual.
No water, no priest,
no crowd to sanctify my undoing.

My altar is a quiet room.
My prayer, a broken promise
that falls back into my face like ash.

Only a rusty knife,
and the tender cruelty
of a trusted hand
pressing the blade
to where my breath
still trembles.

Soft whispers bloom like morning light,  
Unadorned truths, pure hearts ignite.  
Each syllable falls, steady, bare,  
A tender gift, a breath of care.  

In quiet tones, wisdom takes root,  
With honesty, no need for suit.  
The soul speaks best in moments small,  
Love's echo rising, heard by all.

Dancing on my grave, I taste a hush so deep, I bow to sleep at last — the world can keep its keeps.

O God, a whisper: thank You for this peace I keep.

Shadows dance, light sways in tune.  
Roots and winds share ancient secrets.  
Darkness whispers truths, unbound, untamed.

The light bends, tender, in knowing embrace.  

Harmony hums where opposites collide.  

Steps falter, rise, then learn to fly.  
In balance, stillness moves, serene, alive.

They wish you well, but not free.  
Soft smiles mask chains invisibly tied.  
Their kindness blooms with serrated grace, Yet flowers of venom thread their lace.  

Your mind, a lantern in their storm,  
Mocking the dark with quiet form.  
You hear their clap, a hollow sound.
Your laughter soared where none were bound.