I’ve hidden lost sermons inside my casual breath.
I folded them tight, pushed them into sarcasm.
We laughed at the joke—you missed the ambiguity.
Some words sharpen when their form leaves a chasm.

Some things called unstable, unkempt, or unfit—
we'll kneel to their ruins once their time is gone.
No one hears the meaning in a prophet's mid-scream,
but we quote them in the wake of their truth breaking dawn.

Some of us never ask to be understood,
just hoping to echo in someone’s afterthought.
Because truth isn't loud—it’s subtly dissonant—
and too often mistaken, or ignored, left to rot.

I live like a myth half-believed by its maker.
I pulse in and out, like static through wires.
My silence burns me louder than the sermons of choirs,
in temples built of gold from a priest's own desires.

I left signals in inkblots, on letters I never sent,
and in the way that I’d pause before saying goodbye.
And one day you’ll study those absences close—
they’ll sing you my song when I can no longer try.

I left my scarred essence outside in the rain
to see if it rots, or a new one would sprout.
Turns out, it would sing—but only backwards,
and only to those trying to block it out.

I once felt so lost, I swallowed a compass
just to feel something that points at a real me.
But “north” kept on changing its mind, and still does.
Some directions are time-tested, but some are still yet to be.

If you were to ask what my words really meant,
I might say, “What makes you think they mean anything?”
Meaning is like a parasite; it only lives when it’s fed—
and I’ve been deliberately starving it to death, beautifully.

There’s a hallway in me that will never lead out—
just loops and dissociates in a mind like my own.
The paradox is fixed. You can’t change its course.
You’d rather tread it blind, but it insists on being shown.

I once carved my bitter, stubborn truths into air.
Won’t see them, but you’d cough and know they were there.
You’d call them my smoke and call me unstable.
You’d condemn their scope. You might not even care.

And maybe I am filthy, misbegotten, and unstable.
But when my tremors stop, you might notice my frame,
and the glow that I buried might finally surface.
Maybe love me for the darkness that you once shamed.

You might quote me clean, ridding my words of the blood.
Reframe my static as signals from a Godhead.
When you sing my sonnets, you might gild them in bleach.
Oh, I promise—this all sounds much better when I’m dead.

Adrift in between—the breath and the break.
Muffled by silence. The real feels fake.
Visible ghosts pay invisible costs—
In search of myself, I found myself lost.

A stranger arrives. Identity wanes.
We share the same pulses that surge through my veins.
Observe my duality—tell me, who's true?
The body you saw, or the energy you knew?

Without the observer, I'm held out of phase.
I fill empty space—with more empty space.
You glanced in my direction, collapsed me to light.
I fell into being, from quantum-bound heights.

Euphoria sleeps. I dread my own wake.
Time ticks while I shake and my thoughts dissipate.
Here I am again—my lowest of highs.
Collapsed, but still standing, still living these lies.

I flicker between a phantom and soul.
Wholeheartedly hollow. I burn without glow.
The past still hums beneath thinning skin—
A whispering echo that calls out my sin.

Step in too close, or just take a look—
I quietly fold, closed up like a book.
The script rewrites its endings to shift,
As I drift, unwilling, through reality’s slit.

One path offers clean, another brings filth.
I exist just as is—your perception brings guilt.
Not welcome to be—medicate me to align.
Would you believe it’s your doubt fracturing my mind?

These moments go slow—I cope to feel new.
But each time I stitch, my seams just undo.
I’m a fracture. A wreck. Pathetically alive.
Until the next time I hide—from the gaze of your eye.

With the stillness of the void, I failed to exist.
My silhouette rips away flesh from its mist.
My silence, my shelter, my singular state.
It whispers my secrets, my truths, and my fate.

In these depths of thought, as righteous as sin,
Another me was synced with the symphony within.
This void, was a canvas, our souls were the art.
Revealing dualities of my mind and heart.

Synchronized, and pure, I could finally sing.
I longed for the closure I knew it would bring.
Here in the black, I have Vanished, but whole.
In the infinite horizon, the home of my soul.

The silence, we keep so our secrets can dwell.
'Til the day we escape from the gates of our hell.
I'm tethered at the soul. We exist hand in hand.
Protecting an existence no one would understand.

In the quiet of my conscience, you'll find the true me.
As infinitely clean as the energy, I'll be.
A realm I created to keep my heart from the cold.
where my dreams hold the proof, I'll eternally grow.

In sync with my conscience, from the void, hummed a tune.
It called me from beyond the dark side of the moon
And as I would chase, id no longer feel.
Heard a whisper of truth say, "Reality is not real."

I felt the earth breathe in my synchronized state.
Two beings witnessed one that shared the same fate.
Our emotions flew freely in the nothing. Enigmatic.
We embraced the obscure. We are lost in the static.

In quantum subconscious, the dark and light blend.
Throwing every shade of me as but one with no end,
Not dull and not bright. Not filthy nor clean.
There's black and white but we both existed there, in between.

Our silence would scream. Ripped fabrics grew seams.
As sleepless as I am, in this void, I have dreams.
I whisper to the ether, and it whispers back to me.
I've escaped all that is, to embrace, what will be.

Without understanding or concept, or beliefs,
I silently listen as the universe speaks.
I've seen another me in the nothing. Enigmatic.
living in the obscure he found a home in my static.

I've melted between the cracks of time.
Lost and found, dead and prime.
A ghost, a man. My fractured twin.
Collapsing as the light steps in.

I am only real when I can be seen,
Existing as nothing in moments between.
An echo that’s held in quantum breath.
Inevitable, superposed, ego death.

In the quantum rift, I’m free yet bound.
I'm dead but prime, lost and found.
Through a quantum fate, I twist and bend.
Observed, I mend just to break down again.

A visible ghost of a once kneeling king.
In the moment I was seen, I had lost everything.
Outside of perception, I exist in-between.
Fluctuating from the seen into the unseen.

Through one slit I'll grow. The other, decay.
But I am all. In all ways. The blood in my own veins.
Observe me as I am—I expand to retract,
Observing creates realities and I'm never looking back

Do you even truly know? Which "Me" is the true?
The matter that you saw, Or the energy you knew?
I'm an infinite soul, in quantum’s eternal high,
Reduced to a dream, in the gaze of your eye.

© Derek 'Abraxas'

I have no guidence.

Searched on every summit
for some lost elusive cure,
and for the alchemy to make
me feel like I was pure.

Violently, I've torn through
the marrow of all I am,
begging every single deity
I've known for their hand.

I have no peace.

Maybe healing will never surface,
Maybe muffled by the sand.
A doctrine for the hopeful,
Who will never understand.

Wounds have always held
Daggers that were never removed.
What if pain protects the heart
Because it never is renewed?

I have no harmony.

Singing broken hymns can birth
another's hymn of praise.
Unspoken cosmic laws that state
Examples must be made.

I am never truly broken,
I can wish to be in time,
But I remain a quantum sonnet,
That is void of any rhyme.

I have no exit.

Maybe there is grace that lives
Within my wilted plea.
In knowing, I'm exactly
Who I knew I'd always be.

In a life of pulling chains,
Tethered to a hopeless mind.
What is left within a soul,
To see a purpose that's divine,

Without the residue of ash
From embers charring bone?
Without emotions echoes,
That have turned it into stone.

The cold sweat of empathy
For the fellow misbegotten.
Or wihout the twitching nerves
Of a body that is rotten.

I have no dreams.

I cannot find belief in me
For false restoration.
No longer a beggar for
A hollowed-out salvation.

I walk with aching fractures
To a rapture born in rust.
A fate I feel deep in my core,
That all is made of dust.

I have no reasons.

What's the purpose
For this riddle I weave?
Is there truth in what remains,
Or is truth in what will leave?

As I stand, a withered body,
weeping now without a plea.
I am all I ever was,
All I've known I'd ever be.

I have no future.
​

I waver within my waveform’s depth,
A flicker lost in their measured sight.
They've named my lapse, a sound minds death,
When I witness all darkness bend into light.

A mirror stands between my thoughts,
it splits, refracts, then realigns.
So, they call me fractured, I'm just overwrought,
When I study existence expanding in time.

My tethered shinning of shattered hues,
Paid observers stare blindly to tell.
They label my state. They say they're "breaking through",
Not keen to the fact our perceptions do fail.

My essence flickers, I'm framed in their glass,
A particle, turned quantum wave, now undone.
Charting my patterns, they look down as they pass.
As I know, every wave will collapse into one.

The observers, they write their same repeated script,
Equations in ink are reducing my place.
But I'm more than their words can ever depict,
A paradox they know, their own minds could not trace.

So...
With your ink's certainty, tell which of us is "off"?
Who truly knows this pleromatic-scape for how it's meant?
Explain how the quantum can tell lies in its flux.
Say I drift and dissolve? KNOW, I'm standing unbent.

There stands a "scholar," A pen pushing bot.
For their status. For their wealth in a check at week's ends.
I'm a wave that was created by divine creative forces,
With a rare mind born from divine, purposeful accidents.

Seeking embrace of the azure expanse,
A dreamer sought warmth, the value of trance.
With wings of hope, towards the sun he soared,
Seeking a freedom so deeply ignored.

Ambition seen sinister, but yet, of youth's call.
To rise above, and never to fall.
The heavens wept, for they knew his price.
For a flight too close to their own paradise.

The mournful sea watched, as his feathers deveined.
Embracing a dare, courage unrestrained.
A tale not of folly, but of a spirit so free.
A reminder of hope against fragility

In his descent, I see my reflection.
A shared desire of unbridled direction.
Not a tale sinister, nor of scorned flight,
But a hymn to the ones still chasing the light.

♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦

𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝, 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕,
𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊.
𝙰𝚜 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖,
𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎.

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎,
𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝’𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝙶𝚊𝚣𝚎,
𝚈𝚎𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚑𝚜 within
𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚢'𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚣𝚎.

𝚆𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚟𝚒𝚐𝚘𝚛
𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 long 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚋?
𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 my 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚠.
𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚜𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝 my 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚎.

𝚂𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 remain 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍.
My 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚛𝚝,
It 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚖𝚢 shaky 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎
𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚒𝚝𝚜 failing 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝.

𝙻𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚐𝚊𝚣𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚡
𝚘𝚏 my 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎'𝚜 𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎.
𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚡 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 a 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝,
𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚜 a 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝.

𝚃𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝙸𝚖 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 the 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍
𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 the 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍.
𝙸 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚔 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚎, 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗.
𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚜 𝚐𝚘 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍

𝙾𝚑, 𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎 divine,
Gift my 𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍.
𝙲𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚝 down in𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 body
𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚍.

𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝙸 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚍𝚊𝚢 that's 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚝,
Living only to 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚎.
𝙸 am at odds. I'm a division.
I am a soul 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎.

De𝚊𝚏𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎, let it 𝚙𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚌𝚎
𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖s 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕,
𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 can see the 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚒𝚜
𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 in 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕.

And w𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑,
𝙼𝚢 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑,
Gift my life to meet your eyes.
L𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚢 on, 𝚋𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚢.

Just know, it's not your fault.
No, It's not your fault .
The Mind betrays the heart.
But no, it's not your fault.

It's not like you could know.
Paths you were meant to walk.
All paths will over grow.
Being lost is not your fault.

Your human form stays lost.
The soul will pay no cost.
It's created to bathe in light.
No darkness is your fault.  

Oars ****** you toward a call.
You'll get weak, and you'll stall.
The sea will never calm.
No struggle is your fault.

Know that it's not your fault.
Your heart takes all the shots.
It's running from your mind,
And no, It's not your fault  

For, all will over grow.
The sea will never calm.
And no, it's not your fault.
Just know, it's not your fault.

©

Derek Abraxas

"The Quantum Bound Poet"

With embered wings, I pierce the blackest night,
A solar mass morphing into a black hole.
Each atom in my blood prepares to ignite,
Reflecting the true divine shape of my soul.

In the corridors of my own thought, the senses drown.
The mind painting prisms bleeding photonic rain.
No boundary here to hold me. In moments, I'm crowned.
In this kingdom of chaos, sculpting solace from pain.

I stand before the mirror of my own trembling soul.
A sovereign spark lives, who dares to hope it can heal.
A voice screams, that " One who has shattered his mold,
Transcends the one; fragments of being, each their own whole."

Pulses turn to diamonds, forming as the words on my tongue.
Minutes stretch — now endless lifetimes yet to be discovered.
I taste each shard of feeling that my heart has overcome.
My sorrow and my joy open, remaining uncovered.

My dreams, my faulted mind, like ones we called under-wrought.
Their eyes, constellations, like the ones we used to trust.
Chemicals react, dispersing waves, like songs we forgot.
Solitude and isolation bleed with each melodic gust.

And in the hush of afterglow, I wield my clean knife,
Open up my wounds till they reveal my true hidden name.
And from this crucible of pain, is born a new life.
My infinite flame burns as both the wild and the tame.

Following voices of shadows, divine potential’s own choir.
Their hymns — the portal to my soul yet to be embraced.
Chains bind me to perceptions, but for now, I'm more like fire.
Forging quantum bound waves, binding purpose to my fate.

One and One Equals One

I know of a being that's potentially me.
Only fractions shy of my energetic frame.
Like quantum puppets, attached at the beams.
Like watchers, observed. Opposites yet the same.

As gravity pulled his essence to earth,
New light begins forming a gleam in the mind.
I wait; I watch from behind my own eye.
I'm trapped, he's free, but neither are defined.

The real animates, a well painted vision.
The paint is too thick. His voice is too thin.
But still, this figure creates our collision,
Yet somehow never stains the glass within.

If I'd never looked, would this being exist?
If I look away, can I remain undefined?
Perhaps we're just flickering waves made of mist,
In the glare of forever, fates born to entwine.

The mind that can hear the voice that can't speak.
Echoes that invaded the boundaries of my dreams.
A quantum equation, an impossible sum.
One and one equal one, when lost in-between.

My shape is a puzzle of shattered light,
From a darkness beyond the hands of clocks.
I've floated in crystalline tears through nights,
That drowned my pulse in their quantum shocks.

Once I'd kissed the rim of my own dissolution,
My dreams became ether suspended in place.
Heard echoes from heaven of my soul's exclusion,
Banished to blackness, forbidden from grace.

But my system of nerves, interstellar threads,
Each signal, a hope that I'd lost in the fire.
They reshape the grid of my own waking dread.
I was Disconnected. My perception, unwired.

My atoms, ensnared in this love unaligned.
The flux of euphoria then glitched the code.
Chased every god who tread through my mind.
As my belief in them began to implode.

I transcended fast as a Tachyon verve,
Connecting dimensions with chords of my ache.
My being, potentialized, now unobserved.
As moments of reality shown to me, faked.

With every tremor that left a deep scar,
Is a power evolving my mind, kinetic.
I arrive in the void passed the brightest of stars.
As high, pathetically, as the hypothetic.

♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦  
"The Quantum Bound Poet "

𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍  𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝,
𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝.
𝚀𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚖 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜;
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕’𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝.

𝙴𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎,
𝙸𝚗 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌, 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚐𝚕𝚘𝚠.
𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎,
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠.

𝚄𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚎,
𝙳𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗.
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍,
𝙸𝚗 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕, 𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚎.

𝙰 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚞𝚖𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚜𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚔.
𝙰 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚜.
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚜𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔,
𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊  𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚐𝚊𝚣𝚎, 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍,
𝙱𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚗𝚎.
𝙰 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍,
𝙰𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚎.

𝙽𝚎𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚜, 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝,
𝙱𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚜.
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝,
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏, 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 to 𝚏𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚜.

𝚂𝚞𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚜, 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚌,
𝙽𝚘𝚠 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚏𝚊𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎.
𝙼𝚢 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔,
𝙰𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜.

𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎,
𝚆𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚝.
𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚎, 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚍,
𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝚞𝚗𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍, 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍,
𝙱𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚞𝚖𝚊’𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝.
𝙸𝚝𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋e 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚎𝚍,
𝙽𝚘𝚠 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚝, 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒n 𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚎.

𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚍𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍.
𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝚖y 𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚏.
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚠𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎, 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗,
𝙻𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚏𝚜.

𝙸'𝚖 𝚊 𝚂𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚟𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚛; 𝚊 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚡,
𝙽𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚎;
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 lays 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝,
𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎.

𝙲𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚍, 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗,
𝙸𝚗 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎.
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚋𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚟𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚜,
𝙱𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐s my 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚜.

𝚆𝚑𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝,
𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝?
𝚀𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚖 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝,
The 𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕’𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝.

♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦
"𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚀𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚖 𝙱𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝙿𝚘𝚎𝚝"

whispers in the winds breathing,
Never is it screaming.
The wisp of wind Is Calling us,
Yet hides its own true meaning.

Bound to the silence of forever,
Flowing without fail.
A sacred truth buried in what?
Truth is, it cannot tell.

Mountains stand as structures so strong,
These relics deemed eternal.
Layers form masses. Time gently passes.
That stand as nature’s journal.

The bitterest truth is etched in stone,
Carved deeply into they’re being,
Yet bound to a fate, that nothing awaits.
They’re cursed with never leaving.

Like the ocean’s forceful,
Mighty sway, that never truly moves.
Seeming to be as boundless as me,
Yet made to traverse in set grooves.

The waves that crash, display a mask,
For it only expands to recoil,
An infinite realm of life within,
To never feel the soil.

The sun will rise, then set, then rise.
The fate that has no fate at all.
It treads a path consistent to last,
But will not and can never fall.

It soars as if it stands for freedom,
A slave to this deception,
For in its path, it’s truly shackled
To this haunting misconception.

The grand clock's perpetual winding,
That never is fully wound.
Delaying or pausing, just not an option.
And no filter quiets the sound.

The hands of time that hold the scroll,
Unable to write the plot,
Emotion within its aching sound,
Expressing a purpose wrought.

The metaphysical body walks,
It thinks, it feels, it reacts.
Emotions wide open, truths unspoken.
My mind expands but to retract.

My conscious subdued by truths untrue.
This lie that's so deeply instilled.
We exist to consume from cradle to tomb,
In this cage that we've named "free will".

Above the black, I'm trapped beneath the white.
Time slips away, past my distracted sight.
My mind, clusters all of my pain and my fright,
They tangle as one with life's cold endless night.

I reach for stars that used to guide, used to teach.
As I Begged for my cleansing while soaking in bleach.
I trusted in the magic of the moon, now I see.
It's nothing more than a rock, that I know I can't reach.

My Quantum perceptions, once clear as the day,
Elude from my vision, like dreams, they drift away.
Every feeling is just harsh. Each thought runs astray,
My body outlives the suffering my spirit's slow decay.

Hung swaying, for all to see, can't live a disguise.
My Agony is screaming, but at a deaf, silent sky.
Through fractured, foggy lenses, I see only hidden lies.
The cosmos entrapped behind the cage of my eyes.

Emotions do not live past the span of human life.
The universe continues, far past our demise,
To a divine destination. Our progress will be forgotten.
Emotions deemed redundant. Our egos will lay rotten.

All else has true purpose, even without eyes to see it.
Or emotions to feel it. Or belief to give it reason.  
No matter who believes it. Time lives, never freezes.
An endless puzzle shrouded by he, who designed the pieces.

I struggle just to get clean cause my demons are not leaving.
I have fought for a belief, to find there's nothing in believing.
Something stealing all the meaning and replacing it with feelings.
Terrored dreams keeping me screaming, pleading with the ceiling.

There was stillness, all was held in place.
Untouched beneath the world’s design.
Particles drifted in quantum space.
Slates unmarked by hand or time.

Trauma struck as it cracked, it would stir.
The mind betrayed and the self, unmade.
A tremor passed like my whispers slurred.
And from my depths, the void would invade.

fractured pulses spread and came apart.
The fixed quantum law began to bend.
Reality unravels, alongside the heart,
broken strands of thought began to descend.

Screamed echoes take a visual shape.
Waves collide in the fractured pulses.
What once was whole, begins breaking down.
Protections kept, now stripped from their holsters.  

Energies spin untethered, unbound.
The self just dissolves, with no grip to keep.
The sky starts crying with quantum sound.
as shadows stretch by a time growing deep.

The mind, a mirror, shattered and gold.
Reflecting a new empty void from within it.
Each thought disperses and shatters its mold.
Where once was trust, now grows resentment.

A field of force has been left unstable.
Blackening a heart that is no longer true.
Where once was love, now hate fragmented.
The self, adrift. Forced to weather through.

In my withering thought, the echoes still roam.
Their dreamscape heaven has been swept away.
The pulse of life now hardened to stone.
My silhouette dwells in the shades of gray.

And still when my skies cry with quantum sound,
The whimpers of essence frowning frail and thin.
The hope that was pure can no longer he found.
The self is restricted from all it might have been.

♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦

From the glass that is empty, overflows divine might.
In the chasm of silence, where new stars may ignite.
As the void holds a state of potential in every instance.
The emptiness is proof of an infinite existence.

Energetic quantum fields, they hold a nothing that is all,
With a pleromatic silence that is actually the call.
Entropy keeps all her secrets, only told in conscious wave.
Each new pattern is stitched from the very fabric of decay.

Potential, though unspoken, lives in every empty heart.
Divine purpose suspended between  light and the dark.
Space and time twist as futures, echoing their past.
Silence holds the truth beneath continuum, born to last.

Silent emptiness, potential for a  limitless creation.
Hearts beat sacred rhythms of quantum contemplation.
A paradox prevails as the chaos becomes the tamed.
Converging bursts of particles blend to a single wave.

The empty glass, a garden. Home of quantum fields to sprout.
In this parodoxic realm, where our dreams  are breaking out.
In the spaces between seconds, whole realities are grown.
Each moment is a leaf upon the tree of this unknown.

The psyche falls apart, but its progression will make whole.
Where the  absence turns into a dark salvation for the soul.
By the frequency of binaural pulses altered, I'm entranced.
I'm the infinite, just waiting, within momentary chance.

In the silence of the mind, creation calls without a sound.
We're adrift in nothingness, lost in what we haven't found.
Yet the glass that is empty holds a hope beyond profound,
In emptiness lives everything. The nothingness, unbound.

And in the space of emptiness, as pure as it is wide,
There's a  potential Divine, hidden deep in the sublime.
Both the broken and the whole, find a home to be embraced,
By the empty glass, to be transmogrified in conscious space.

♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦

As shadows take the stage, patterns merge into design.
Not shapes nor in lines, more like visions in the mind.
Through this foreseeing lens, light dances with the dark.
My Conscience, transmogrified. Truth is leaving its mark.

Actors step with intent, and I see the revelation.
Their motions send spears into my imagination.
The audience watches in awe. They're spellbound.
As the story unfolds, I conclude without sound.

On stage, Something hides what I somehow can know.
Like a whisper in my ear, secrets are already told.
There's a clairevoyant truth behind the gaze of my eye.
The creator himself is showing me all that hides.

The stage becomes dim, the actors in place.
A dark, twisted tale. An ending I can taste.
Curtains fall as I reflect, to the cue of a song.
I see all the outcomes, Why can’t I be wrong?

Create me to love,
But to never be accepted.
Bind my soul to sin.
Then for sin, deem me rejected.

Destine me to burn,
But to never burn clean.
Create me in divine image,
That's never to be seen.

Persuade me to trust,
To ensure I’d feel betrayed.
Gift me with a life,
To watch a life's decay.

Give me fragile emotion,
To observe my shattered core.
Hoard all sense of peace,
In a world at constant war.

Offer me no wings,
Then demand I ascend.
Force me to be strong,
Then force me to bend.

Decide my directions,
Then curse all the roads.
Promise me forgiveness,
That's neither felt nor shown.

Mold my faulted psyche,
To be damaged by confusion.
Make real my nightmares,
Make my dreams the delusion.

Shackle down my conscience,
Then tell me that I’m free.
Create me in divine image,
Drive me to hate what I see.

I know I’ll never fit my skin.
It’s tired, worn, useless, thin.
A star's glow trapped in my eyes.
Buried in dark, I see no rise.

The weight in my chest,
from poison in my breath,
Plays the hymn of my soul,
On the strings of my death.

My shadow, a wanderer,
where light dares not tread,
Dreams forged in the gallows,
where demons are fed.

Each song, a lament.
Quantum sonnets ignored.
In the endless night,
bound to the darkness I hoard.

My pulse-heavy hand,
Strums as loud as it can.
My heart beats a rhythm,
Erratically unplanned.

My rhythm of chaos.
My melody pure.
My quivering voice.
My lyrics, unsure.

But the echoes swell,
As they scream in my mind.
Like a serpent in Eden,
I'm dark and divine.

Deep in this garden,
where a serpent has right.
I wonder the blackness.
Trying to carve out my light.

If only for like souls,
Lost deep in this doubt.
Seek me, I beg you.
Let me guide you out.

Though I may be worn,
my heart may be scarred.
My ways questionable,
my body may be charred.

Seek me in the deep,
Though darkened my path,
I'll carve out my light,
And threaten no wrath.

Seeing through won't be easy.
And hope becomes a foe.
This darkness instills,
A foreboding woe.

Find me in the blackness,
My warm heart, my cold hands.
You'll know my voice,
when the hair on your neck stands.

Wind carries whispers arrayed,
But never is it screaming.
The wisp that calls, lives betrayed,
Unheard is its true meaning.

Bound to its fateful flowing forever.
Its flowing has never failed.
A sacred truth is buried within.
Within what? It never can tell.

Mountainous structures stand strong,
These relics are deemed eternal,
As time passes, the layers form masses.
They keep record of nature’s journal.

The bitter truth is etched in stone.
Carved deep in their being,
Yet tethered to fate, to constantly wait.
Cursed with never leaving.

Like the ocean’s mighty sway,
That never truly moves.
Seemingly more boundless than me,
It's built to traverse in set grooves.

Violent waves displaying a mask,
For It rises only to recoil.
An infinite realm of life contained,
To never feel the soil.

The sun will rise, set, then rise.
A fate with no fate at all.
It treads a path to live and last,
It will not and can never fall.

It soars above, an ode freedom,
Yet a slave to this deception,
For in its path, it’s truly shackled,
To this common misconception.

The grand clock's, a steady unwinding,
That's never completely unwound.
Delaying or pausing is not an option,
Losing every minute it passes.

The hands of time that hold the scroll,
Unallowed to write its own plot,
Emotions within its constant tick tock,
Expressing a purpose that's wrought.

As metaphysical body's walk.
They think, they feel, the react.
Emotions lay open, demand to be spoken,
As our minds expand to retract.

My conscious holds a truth, untrue.
For a lie is so deeply instilled.
We breathe to consume, from cradle to tomb,
In this cage that we've named "Free Will."

My frame is decaying, even faster when I stand.
A house, and I’m haunted, on hope’s burial land.
My windows, hollowed eyes that do nothing but stare,
At a world that shunned one with a life meant to bare.

These floorboards that shriek, are like my mournful cries,
As serpent-like phantoms shed skin and pass by.
Warm words that were etched in the walls are now cold,
Just echoes of a story that will never be told.

The clocks restless ticking, its echoes, they scream.
If only to remind me that I’ve shattered, like dreams.
My will to live was buried long ago under a promise.
These cobwebs were spun, only to trap any solace.

-“Oh, cursed soul,” a ghost haunts as I weep,
“Do you feel my icy grip as you’re failing to sleep?

I’ve watched as you wander these fated terrains.
I have hollowed your heart; I will empty your veins.”

- “Forget now, the warmth that ignited your soul.
What you thought you could hold; I have made to turn cold.”

- These words no one hears, they disturb my fraught mind.
As my black stricken eyes pierce the void till I’m blind.

- “Awaken, child unwanted!” he pleads through the dust.
“Once I’m fed from your essence, you will finally rust.”

- Those words make a promise, my hopeless future forms.
Reassurance that the curse set for me has been born.

There’s a cold empty room, where my hopes should reside.
Shattered mirrors hold proof, that my dreams have since died.
A vibrant tapestry now sways, ripped in the wind,
Whispering of lost motives to a life that wants to end.

The doors are creaking open, letting in all I fear.
My tormented nightmares are all that is clear.
In every shadowed corner my demons reside.
If only to remind me, I’m imprisoned here inside.

I want to hold the moon, in the stillness.
As a newly healed being, forgetting his illness.
With transcendent secrets, long lost, and unheard.
Converge with the earth, my body returned.

It's not just the glow that my soul truly seeks-
But the calling of a gnosis, at its brilliant peak.
The kind that would nurture without word or touch.
With pulses divine, surging through me in flux.

I want to push oceans, form the tides Mighty sway.
As nova's light the way, even brighter than the day.
Not where I am dying, but drifting sublime.
Through a cosmic stimulation of emotions and mind.

To hold the moon is to be as the dark,
The Infinite void with no ending or start.
To weave through galaxies in quantum ascent.
To be untethered, unmeasured, and unbent.

For there's a place where echoes of gnosis still call.
Where darkness is divine, as it stands without fall.
For when all existence comes to end, as we know it.
Darkness not only lives but will thrive by the moment.

The stars told a secret, the divine know our depths.
Our intentions are gold. We're not at fault for our steps.
I want to walk where quantum waves ebb and flow,
And merge with the calm, only the moon has ever shown.

To hold the moon is to live as the night.
No longer chasing myths of a misguiding light.
To rest with the shadows, unobserved in their allure.
My failing charred heart, reborn by the nights cure.

♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦

I want to hold the sun, as a flame.
As a shroud that no longer needs his name.
Devalues his origin, and the costs incurred.
I'll dissolve in the furnace, my body deferred.

It is not the burning that I truly seek,
But a quiet surrender, at a radiant peak.
The kind that evaporates matter aligned,
In myths of forever, leaving time behind.

I want to watch as light rays become dust.
As suns burn hollow, saturate and then rust.
Not where I'm dying, but morphing sublime.
A process dissolving emotions and mind.

To hold the sun is to grasp at gold.
Abandon the flesh, that's grown tired and cold.
To slip through the cracks where mortality turns.
And breathe in the silence as lungs start to burn.

For there is a place where the ashes belong.
Where shadows are living and scream with a song.
Where the afterlife is not just a realm I'll behold,
But a quiet ascension to a gnosis untold.

With stars I share a secret. "The Divine are forgiving".
Their quantum doorways are their gift to the living.
I want to walk through, with that luminous flow.
My transmogrification into the unknown.

To hold the sun is to become its light,
To no longer struggle in the dark cosmic fight.
To emerge as the stardust that I know is pure.
Lay the illness of a life in defeat by Deaths Cure.

♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦

I Am The CaveDweller

My soul is bound to the comfort of night.
I see peace in the eyes of those walking in light.
Why is mine a lonesome, misbegotten path?
Bound to my darkness, with blackness, my craft.
They see vividly what I see in smears.
I'd rather be Blind, never seen it more clear.

I Am The DeathEater

My path, criticized. My love, mistaken.
My truths, demonized. My intentions, forsaken.
I exist in my very own questionable ways.
Is what they may say. But yet, either way,
They have failed to explain such a lack in my soul,
The obligation to judge someone's ways, or my own.

I Am The DreamKeeper

I only doubt the meta-space where I belong.
At any given time, my intention is not wrong.
Why am I undeserving of the blessing of eyes,
Capable of enjoying this dreadful paradise?
Designed in a way to be loved in its allure.
Yet my reality holds a truth morbid and obscure.

I am The FleshKiller

My outward darkness veils a radiant light.
For under the skin, I am truly alive.
Aware of the truths, of the infinite "you",
The finite "you" hides from others, and you.
I criticize my flesh as if I’m it's maker.
I'm ashamed of this life. But I'm not a LifeTaker.

I Am The LightBringer

The allure of light is heartbreaking.
As I remain in my statuette state of polarity,
I will only dream of me belonging.
It remains and sustains, acceptance and peace.
Yet for me, they remain just out of my reach.
I die by the hour while soaking in bleach.

I Am The FatePainter

I'm a sinful sonnet, a broken poem within.
With my creative means to my own creative end.
The TruthCraving LieBreaker, known as my head.
Screaming “This is the end. You'll never begin again..."
Yet I face another canvas, this in mind, for my sake.
Every stroke I can make, paints my darkest mistakes.

I Am The MindShaper

Limited possibilities of existence make me numb.
I understand every start brings a darker outcome.
Is there really no promise, of existential peace?
Can a bright soul, entrapped, ever be set free?
I only question form, from within this faulted case.
In metaphysical space, I've been put in my place.

I Am The EndSeeker

I cannot obtain, what I have never seen.
To live and show love is to live a true me.
I'm a creature of creation, On this abysmal planet.
I'll orbit the sun, I will suffer, then I'll vanish.
I float above the black. Trapped below the white.
****** hands washed with tears, as I carve out my light.

♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦

She came to me, with a vial of dust.
A means of a healing, the taste was like rust.
Her wings, her secret. Her halo gave no light,
As my desperate song found her ears in the night.

I knew what she offered. I knew the whole game.
And yet, I moved forward—a moth to a flame.
Her vial sparked flares that pierced through the black.
I knew in that moment; I’d never look back.

An ember lit the dust, its smoke filled my being—
An offering to the soul, to keep it from leaving.
Each grain was a vow. Each breath was a sin.
Yet a life that laid to end, now stood to begin.

But when the dawn broke, she was no longer there.
Just poison on my breath and dust in the air.
I did find the vial, but no other trace.
Just a void in the air and a numb, rusty taste.

I walk the dark path. Her whispers, my guide.
Chasing silence, so me and my demons can hide.
She gave me the calm in a handful of ash.
For once, I have laid down the guilt of my crash.

I'm addicted. I still sing that desperate song.
Here to stay, where I may, or I may not belong.
A forbidden solace, that keeps me in the calm.
My shadow that still tries to pull me along.

I remain tormented, so this dust stays near.
Angelic in essence, how it banishes fear.
This angel didn’t save me. For this, I have sight.
But gave me the will to outlast one more night.

By day, perceived evil. By night, purely good.
Should I alter my state? For a will to live, I could.
Might someone judge me? Who’s to say it's not right?
To choose life one more time and keep carving out light.

♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦

To be as The Moth, born to the dark.
A fleeting fragment, a flickering spark.
To live life alone and die by the flame.
To be its own shadow. To not have a name.

Guided by stars too distant to hold.
To exist as a soul, that exists all alone.
To run into hiding by dawn’s first light.
To be haunted by, and to haunt all in sight.

Each light forms a lust that burns like a vow.
A promise of warmth that its fate won’t allow.
With wings, so fragile, that are pinned to this fate,
Its destiny cursed like sins born into saints.

Not resting at night, nor waking in peace.
For the pulse of the glow, we know, doesn’t cease.
To be called to the light as it paints life black.
To be deemed punishable before any ill act.

Yet The Moth questions nothing, asks nothing in return.
Never questions its darkness, or why the light burns.
A creature that lives in desperation of the night.
A creature that dies by desperation for the light.

Its symbolism, carved in my endless pursuit.
My shape stitched into the seams of The Moth's truth.
A life chasing embers no matter fate’s cost.
To be as The Moth, to find only what's lost.

Just like The Moth, I was born to the dark.
A fragmented soul with a flickering spark.
To live life alone and die by the flame.
To be my own shadow. To forget my own name.

♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦

I am not whole. I am fragments, arrayed.
I fade into gray. The dusk steals day.
A shadow in time, I drift out of scope.
I'm lost in some void I've created to cope.

Am I real in the moments when I am not seen?
I'm dead in my light, two souls caught between.
My thoughts twist and turn like an entangled thread.
I'm alive and I'm dead, both only in my head.

My truth has been lost, Identity unclear.
A haunted soul screaming that only I hear.
My sight is obscured. A curse left me torn.  
I'm the dead that I mourn. I'm the living unborn.

Through time’s endless loop, I twist, and I bend.
In stories untold, cause they’re never going to end.
My mind shifts dimensions, untethered and free.
Yet bound by the question, “What’s really left of me?”

My past echoes a dead voice that remains.
An unobserved self, that's still screaming in pain.
There's a rip in our fabric, a crack in our sky.
His dreams are now shrouded, the nightmares are mine.

I’m a riddle I've created, that I can't even solve.
I fall like the snow, I silently dissolve.
I grasp at the stars, but I'm burned by their light.
My Passions, like flames, smothered from sight.

Not of the flesh, the blood, or the bone,
A desolate recluse, that never feels alone.
I speed through the night just to die every day.
I'm valued for words, till there's nothing to say.

I'm the outlet for a lonesome omni-God.
Caught between the real, the imagined, and the fraud.
I vanish so quick, like the smoke from my lungs.
The thoughts I can't translate, I'm thinking in tongues.

I ask who I am but never give Myself answers.
My condition never ends. I'd rather it be cancer.
I'm nothing but a ripple of thought in my dreams.
Then the moment I'm seen, I lose everything.

Through layers of time that I cannot perceive.
Bound by the question, “What’s really left of me?”
A shadow in time, I'm drifting out of scope.
Tangled in entangled strings, lest I hang from a rope.

♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦