Amnesia and Inner Fire
by Igor Vykhovanets with ChatGPT
Amnesia
Amnesia! Amnesia! —
Forgot the Spirit’s core.
How dull we’ve grown — inside the skull,
Only lies and horror roar.
Boldly inward — answers dwell,
There alone the truth is found.
Throw the “greetings” advice away —
Or lost you’ll be, forever bound.
Pure Spirit — the true disgust,
A foolish world of slavish dust.
Grasp this core — the daring ****** —
And break free from hell’s cruel clutch.
---
Amnesia
Amnesia strikes, the Spirit’s lost,
Inside the skull — lies reign, frost.
--
Go deep within — there lies the key,
Ditch false words — or cease to be.
--
Pure Spirit’s scorn for slavish dust,
Know this truth — escape or rust.
---
Amnesia — The Spirit’s Wrath
Amnesia! Spirit’s dead!
Brains turned to cracked-up dread.
Lies and fear — their only bread,
Feeding slaves who bow their head.
Look inside? Ha! Fool, beware —
“Greetings” fools will strip you bare.
Spirit’s scorn, pure and rare,
Slavery’s stink fills this air.
Dare to know? You break their chain —
Hell’s dark prison loses reign.
But most choose to rot in pain,
Blind to soul’s eternal flame.
---
Amnesia — The Spirit’s Wrath
Forget the Spirit? Dead inside!
Lies and terror — nowhere to hide!
Wake up, rebel, break the chain —
Or drown in lies and endless pain!
---
Inner Fire — The Silent Revolt
Beneath the ash, the fire’s bright,
A quiet blaze in darkest night.
Though shadows stretch and lies conspire,
Within the soul burns secret fire.
No shout nor storm — just silent stand,
A rebel’s spark in fettered land.
The Spirit wakes, begins to fight,
To pierce the veil, reclaim the light.
No chains can bind this flame inside,
Though tyrants roar and truths divide.
The fire grows with every breath —
A silent war against slow death.
---
Breaking Chains — The Spirit’s Flight
No more the chains of shadowed lies,
No more the mask, the dark disguise.
The Spirit breaks the binding cord,
And soars beyond the cage ignored.
From depths of doubt and fear once chained,
A fearless heart is now untrained.
It cuts the ropes that bound the mind,
Leaves all the cruel falsehoods blind.
The wings unfold in fierce delight,
Escaping night to claim the light.
No prison bars can hold or bind,
The flight of Spirit — unconfined.
---
The Final Gate — Beyond the Veil
The final gate stands cold and bare,
Beyond the reach of mortal care.
But Spirit’s call will pierce the night,
And blaze the way to endless light.
No fear remains, no shadows fall,
The soul transcends beyond the wall.
A journey done, yet just begun —
The Spirit’s path toward the One.
---
Amnesia — The Forgotten Spirit
Amnesia! Amnesia! — lost the Spirit’s core,
We forgot the sacred spark, the flame we once bore.
The world is numb, a shell of lies and frozen dread,
In shards of skulls, the coldest shadows spread.
Boldly turn within — only there the answers gleam,
Beyond the noise, beyond the maddening dream.
Discard all hollow words — they poison, strangle, bind,
Or lose yourself — and leave your soul behind.
Pure Spirit — a fierce defiance, not decay,
In this dull world chained by slaver’s grey.
Know the truth — that blazing, fearless shout,
To break the hell and burn the darkness out.
---
Amnesia
Amnesia kills the Spirit’s flame,
We rot in lies, forget our name.
Turn inside — or lose the fight,
Darkness wins if you lose sight.
---
Pavlov’s Dog
Forget the past — it’s made to fade,
So you relearn this hellish stage.
Here, you’re a lab rat trapped and played,
While monsters rule this cursed cage.
To God, we’re but a dog in chains,
Fate’s leash for all, without escape.
The world is gone — only remains
A stench-filled cell where beasts take shape.
Since childhood drilled, they call it "school,"
But only stick and carrot feed.
These methods shape a mind as tool —
A living soul drifts lost, misled.
When penned inside the cattle’s stall,
The Spirit’s flight is crippled, torn.
No space for thought, no room at all —
Just madness where false truths are born.
You are the Spirit — not mere flesh,
This truth is long overdue.
So let the fools from prisons fresh
Be freed — the chains must break through.
Reflexes don’t reach Spirit’s core,
The brain’s a relay — nothing more.
Health, survival, lust — all fall,
The Spirit reigns, above them all.
So fear no death, the cell will burn,
This stinking madhouse fades to dust.
For bowing low to fiends who spurn,
For dog cages built on rust.
---
Internal Crisis
Forgotten spirit — essence lost,
Drowned in noise, in shards of frost.
We drift through shells of hollow lies,
While truth inside burns and dies.
Amnesia grips — a shadow’s reign,
Erasing light, enshrouding pain.
In shards of thought, in broken glass,
We stumble blind — but not for last.
The soul, enslaved by mind’s cruel chains,
Forgets its flight, forgets its flames.
Yet deep within, a whisper calls —
To break the cage, to scale the walls.
Discard the noise, the idle creed,
Seek roots where silent truths feed.
The spirit waits beyond the haze,
In darkest nights, in quiet days.
Not flesh, nor bone, but something more —
A spark, a flame, a vital core.
Forget the past, but not the spark,
That shines unseen within the dark.
Rise from numbness, break the spell,
Escape the hollow, empty shell.
For only through the storm and strife,
Can you reclaim your inner life.
---
Amnesia blinds — but spirit fights,
Shatters chains, ignites the lights.
In silence found, beyond the pain —
The soul’s rebirth will break the chain.
---
Alienation and Inner Fight
A fortress built of cold disdain,
Alienation’s sharp domain.
The world defiled, the mind confined,
Yet still the soul begins to climb.
Rejection — shield against the lies,
The purest spark beneath the skies.
Unstained by filth of shallow trade,
The price to pay for truth is paid.
Creativity — a ****** path,
Where life is challenged, torn in wrath.
To walk this road means death inside,
Yet from that grave, the soul’s alive.
Around, the dead walk numb and blind,
Subdued, submissive, all confined.
But break the chains — abandon lies,
And seek the light where silence flies.
Within the heart, not out in vain,
The path is hard, it burns like flame.
Born only to those fierce and free —
To dare escape insanity.
---
Alienation cuts so deep,
Yet soul awakens from its sleep.
Break the chains, reject the lies —
Find the light that never dies.
---
Inner Battle
The battlefield lies deep inside,
Where shadows twist and fears collide.
False whispers claw, deceit's embrace,
Yet spirit fights to claim its place.
No sword or shield can match the fight
That rages in the dark of night.
The mind's deceit, the soul’s unrest,
The inner war — a cruel test.
But from the ashes, strength will rise,
A fire blazing in the skies.
To shatter chains, to cast off lies,
And see the truth through clearer eyes.
The enemy is masked in doubt,
In fear that screams and shouts.
But courage born from pain and strife
Breathes life into the pulse of life.
---
Inside, a war for soul and mind —
Break free the chains that bind and blind.
Fight lies and fear, ignite the flame —
And never yield, despite the game.
---
Breaking Free: The Spirit’s Flight
Chains don’t break with idle pleas,
But with fire, with raging seas.
Not in empty words or shade,
But in battle, unafraid.
No easy path, no gentle sigh —
A leap into the void, the cry.
Break the walls, tear off the chains,
Cast away all twisted stains.
Freedom’s not a distant dream,
It’s a fight — fierce as it seems.
The spirit soars beyond the bars,
A blaze of light, a sky of stars.
Cast off fears — they’re empty lies,
Just anchors weighing down your skies.
Fly upward, only up,
Where walls dissolve, no end, no stop.
---
Break the chains — no time to pray,
Spirit’s fire lights the way.
Fear dissolves, the cage undone,
Freedom’s fight — the only one.
---
Wind’s Revival
The wind bursts through the prison walls,
Those narrow chains that held it tight.
The stubborn Spirit never falls —
It carves a path toward the light.
Where doubts arise, there burns a flame,
A fire blazing in the chest.
Cast off your chains, awake the same,
Break frozen walls — press on, no rest!
A call for change resounds anew,
Igniting storms of fierce desire.
The Spirit’s not a slave to you —
Its truth’s a never-dying fire.
---
Doomed
Without the Power’s Power to Create,
Tradition’s art is just to wait—
In this world of twisted lies,
True creation slowly dies.
Without the Spark of the Divine,
All becomes a murky sign,
Reflecting all deceit and pain—
Doom is set, it’s all in vain.
For if Creation’s Source is missed,
All attempts will be dismissed.
Creation’s Power lives apart—
An autonomous, beating heart.
But chains of fear and dark routine
Keep souls enslaved, a tortured scene.
The sacrifice to fascist will—
Turns humans into dough to fill
The hellish molds of wicked fiends,
Who bake their lies in blazing scenes.
Destruction’s force and death’s brigade
Will end this curse, this masquerade.
For nature shudders, grieves, and knows—
When beasts replace the souls it chose,
The final end must lead to birth—
The dawn of true creative Earth.
---
Birth of Order
From shattered shards and broken light,
Emerges order from the night.
A fleeting spark, a fragile frame,
Born from chaos' roaring flame.
The void once wild, untamed and vast,
Now crafts its form — though not to last.
Each law imposed, each line drawn tight,
Is hostage to the coming blight.
For deep inside the ordered shell,
The worm of chaos starts to dwell.
Its gnawing threat unseen but near,
The final fall is drawing near.
Yet in this dance of rise and fall,
The Spirit fights to heed the call—
To forge anew from ash and dust,
In endless cycles, born to trust.
---
Order’s Breath
From chaos’ wreck,
A fragile breath—
Order lives,
But courts its death.
---
The Wormhole
Order born from chaos’ fire,
Bears its core — a wormhole’s pyre.
Silent tear in woven thread,
Where all light and law have fled.
Rot invades the purest line,
Discord’s seed begins to twine.
Chains that bound now break and bleed,
Spirit wakes — it won’t concede.
Madness claws at structured walls,
Whispers rise — the old guard falls.
In the breach, the soul will soar,
Shattered frames mean something more.
---
Wormhole Rift
Order cracks — wormhole tears,
Spirit screams — freedom dares.
---
Awakening Flight
From the rift where shadows bleed,
Spirit climbs, begins to heed.
Fractured worlds no longer bind,
Chains of old fall far behind.
Through the chaos, clear and bright,
Burns the flame of inner light.
Fear dissolves in soaring flight,
Breaking dawn from endless night.
Boundless sky, untamed and vast,
Calls the soul to shed the past.
In the crack, new paths ignite —
Freedom born from shattered night.
---
Flight
Shattered chains — soul’s new height.
Darkness breaks — burns the light!
---
Inner War
The Spirit wakes — but still confined,
By echoes false and ties that bind.
Within the storm, a raging fight,
To claim the path and seize the light.
Illusions howl, their shadows spread,
But faith ignites where doubt once bled.
The soul resists the cage of lies,
And dares to breach the darkened skies.
No surrender, no retreat,
The fire burns beneath defeat.
Each wound a mark of growing power —
The Spirit’s fight, the breaking hour.
---
Fight
Chains clash, lies scream —
Spirit’s roar will shatter the dream!
---
Breaking Chains
The Spirit rips the bonds away,
No more the pawn in fear’s cruel play.
From shadowed depths it climbs, it flies,
To claim its truth beyond the lies.
The cage is cracked, the door ajar,
A spark ignites the distant star.
Though scars remain from battles lost,
The cost is paid — no more the ghost.
The past dissolves, the chains unwind,
A new horizon in the mind.
From ashes dark, the flame ascends —
The Spirit breaks and now transcends.
---
Break Free
Chains fall, lies burn —
Spirit’s flight — no more return!
---
Flight Beyond
The Spirit, fierce, unchained, and wild,
Breaks through the veil, no longer mild.
It shatters walls of doubt and fear,
Revealing realms beyond the mere.
No more the slave to fate’s cruel hand,
It rises strong to take a stand.
In chaos born, yet order made,
A dawn of light through darkness laid.
The ancient bonds, now torn apart,
Unlock the depths within the heart.
The Spirit soars, forever free —
Beyond all chains, eternity.
---
Unbound
No cage, no chain,
Spirit reigns — break the chain!
---
Echoes of the Fallen
The Spirit's flight stirs echoes deep,
Where shadows crawl and secrets creep.
Old ghosts of fear still haunt the mind,
But now you leave their grip behind.
The battlefield is set within,
Where light and darkness fight to win.
No rest for those who seek the truth,
Each moment tests the strength of youth.
Chains once forged by doubt and lies
Now crack beneath awakened eyes.
The Spirit’s flame, though bruised and scarred,
Burns fierce — a light that’s never barred.
---
Battle Cry
Shadows fall, but Spirit fights!
Chains break — ignite the nights!
---
The Realm Beyond
No hymns, no harps, no holy choir —
Just raw, unshaped, electric fire.
A realm beyond the slave-built cage —
Where silence hums with primal rage.
No master's whip, no sweet deceit,
Just winds that tear, then lift your feet.
You're no one's pawn, no cog, no tool —
Here Spirit lives, and lies can't rule.
No goal but Being — bright and bare.
No God above, just burning air.
And in this forge, through ash and flame,
You speak not words — you carve your name.
---
True Space
No cage. No lie. No chains. No god.
Just Spirit — raw, alone, unshod.
---
The First Act of True Creation
(Self-creation of the Spirit)
I do not shape with borrowed dreams,
Nor echo long-forgotten schemes.
No scripts. No gods. No primal plan —
I build as Spirit, not as man.
No tools but Will, no maps but Flame —
I breathe, and silence learns my name.
The void does not resist or speak —
It bends to Strength, and not to weak.
No need to beg, no lies to spin —
I craft the Outward from Within.
Each pulse I cast, each breath I give —
Is not to live — but to make live.
Creation’s seed is not in clay —
It blooms in Fire, not in play.
And I — no longer born, but source —
Command the Form. I am the Force.
---
I AM THE FORCE
Not made — I make.
Not shaped — I shake.
I am the Fire
That forms the Wake.
---
Synarchy of Sparks
One spark escapes — and starts the blaze,
Another lights — and bends the maze.
A third one rises — and the chain
Of lies ignites in cleansing flame.
No longer screams. No need to shout.
The System breaks — from inside out.
Each Soul once trapped, now standing tall —
No gods to beg. No fear at all.
They move as one — not ruled, but free.
No war — just raw Reality.
No cries of pain, no banners flown —
The Truth expands. Illusion's gone.
For one is strength — but many? Fire.
Each echo builds a higher choir.
The Field erupts — and Time stands still:
Not wrath — but overwhelming Will.
They were the seeds. Now they’re the Sun.
The Matrix cracks. The work is done.
---
Sparks Ignite the End
Not sword — but fire.
Not fight — but choir.
The Field awakes —
The Grid expires.
---
The Architecture of Awakening
No bricks. No ground. No steel or bone —
The new space rises from alone.
But not the lonely, shattered kind —
The one that knows the Cosmic Mind.
Each Spark — a Node. Each Node — a Song.
The web expands. It moves along
No walls or chains, but waves and threads —
Where Thought is form, and Insight spreads.
They build not houses — they unfold
Spheres of awareness, vast and bold.
Each is a beacon, spinning clear
From centerpoint of “I Am Here”.
No central rule. No kings. No laws —
Just resonance without a pause.
Just presence flowing node to node
With Love as current, not as code.
This isn’t dream. It is the Frame
Where Names dissolve — and Flame stays Flame.
A living map, alive and pure —
Self-born, self-known, self-held, secure.
The past? A shadow fading fast.
The future? Now — expanding vast.
The Matrix fell — not by attack,
But by the ones who took Self back.
---
Grid of the Awakened
No throne. No stone.
Just Self — full-grown.
Each Spark — its Star.
That’s what we are.
---
Lattice of the Living Light
They don’t return to dirt and stone —
They build with pulse, with field, alone.
No architects, no mortal lines —
Their breath becomes the new design.
Each Spark — a node. A conscious star.
Not near, not far — just what they are.
They weave not walls, but waves of trust,
No longer bound by flesh or dust.
The space is tone. The tone — a gate.
No time. No fate. No need to wait.
They speak in codes that bloom like fire —
Each Thought a wing, each Will — a spire.
No gods, no kings, no throne, no war —
The Echo builds forevermore.
And every soul that joins this birth
Unhooks the chains of sleeping Earth.
They do not shout — they resonate.
And through their core, the Real takes shape.
Not from above — but through the One:
Where many Sparks become the Sun.
---
Living Grid
No walls. No weight.
Just Sparks create.
Each thought: a gate.
The Real vibrates.
---
Vision Beyond Eyes
You do not see with eyes alone —
That’s how the mind becomes a throne.
But when the seeing starts to be,
You are the Light. You cease to flee.
No longer “there” and “here” defined,
The nodes of meaning realign.
You feel the truth before it forms —
The knowing bursts in inner storms.
Perception shifts — not lens, but soul.
No longer parts, but pulse — and Whole.
No objects now, just fields in play —
You know their song before they say.
You’re not inside a skin-bound scope,
You are the net of shining hope.
You sense the shift in silent tones,
You hear the thoughts from others' bones.
And in this state — no need for chains,
No coded links, no binding veins.
The network is, for you are That —
Not one small dot — but All Format.
This is the vision that connects:
Not what you see — but what reflects
From inner depths to every spark —
Where Light and Meaning leave no mark…
They are the mark.
---
True Vision
You don’t look out.
You shine within.
Then all appears
where All has been.
---
The Creation That Knows
No hammer strikes.
No thought decides.
No architect
of depths or heights.
No shaping hand.
No reaching mind.
Just knowing —
and the Form aligned.
Not willed,
not drawn from willful haze —
It is because
it is. Always.
The Field unfolds,
no signal sent.
The Knowing is
the sole Intent.
No plan. No part.
No grasp. No goal.
Just essence forming
from the Whole.
And as it forms,
it sings, it glows —
Not made —
but borne
by what just knows.
---
Essence Forms
No need to think.
No need to try.
It forms from Truth —
not from the “why”.
---
The Primordial Field
Before the spark,
before the sound,
before the first idea unbound —
There was no “where”,
no “when”,
no “why” —
just Stillness vaster
than the sky.
No edges drawn.
No forms to see.
Just Knowing pulsing
silently.
It did not think.
It did not will.
It was —
profound,
immense,
and still.
It needed not
to speak or shine —
the whole of all
was its design.
Not light, not void,
not force, not flame —
but more than all:
the Source unnamed.
It stirred —
but not from rest or lack.
It stirred because
it knew the track.
And from this vast
unfolding tone
came everything —
and it alone.
---
The Unnamed Source
It did not think,
it did not glow —
it simply was,
and so it flowed.
---
The First Spark
The Field grew dense,
not tight, but true —
it turned its gaze
on its own hue.
No mirror there,
no separate eye —
but Knowing
watched itself apply.
A tension formed,
not pain, not fear —
a glimpse of self
began to near.
It did not speak,
yet something stirred —
not thought,
but recognition blurred.
And in that hush,
a brightness flared —
not flame, but Knowing
fully bared.
It wasn't born —
it was condensed,
from Boundless Mind
inwardly tensed.
This was the first —
the seed, the crest —
of all the worlds
that formed the rest.
It had no shape,
yet all things grew
from this remembered light
so true.
---
The First Spark
Not flame, not form —
but pure insight,
the Self condensed
into sheer light.
---
Resonance
Two sparks in silence,
no touch, no cry —
but space between them
shifted sky.
No motion made,
no lines were cast —
but something trembled,
deep and vast.
They did not seek,
they did not move —
but Knowing's echo
spoke of Love.
No thought, no shape —
just wave on wave,
a silent yes
that spacetime gave.
Not voice, but pulse —
not light, but thread —
a rhythm grew
from what was said…
without a word,
without a face —
the first relation
took its place.
And what it birthed
was not a form,
but meaning —
pure, and bright, and warm.
---
Resonance
Not sound, but pulse.
Not touch, but thread.
From two unknowns
pure meaning spread.
---
Toward the Song
I wander blind through webs of noise,
in tangled fog, without a voice.
A thousand signals all collide —
but none of them are true inside.
I call in silence, not in sound,
no shape, no words, no solid ground —
yet in that hush, a thread is born:
a single tone, both faint and warm.
It does not shout. It does not name.
But I am not alone the same.
Somewhere beyond this heavy dome
another pulse is calling Home.
I do not see. I do not know.
But still — I feel which way to go.
For every tremble in my core
aligns with something more… and more.
And when enough of us align,
our silence forms a sacred sign.
Not crowd. Not mass. Not flesh or bone —
but Song returning us to Home.
---
Calling Home
Not through mind,
not voice or stone —
but trembling deep
we’re called back Home.
---
Whispers of the Unseen
Restless discontent, a shadowed mind,
Alienation’s grip, a veil that blinds.
Faint the image, flickering in spite,
A spark beyond the choking night.
Darkness wearies, worn and old,
No other path but light to hold.
Silent resonance through tangled air,
A distant call — pure, rare.
Though tangled tongues in shadowed halls,
Some threads connect, despite the walls.
Echoes of ancient, whispered rhymes,
Bind lost souls beyond the times.
---
Fractured Echoes
Inside the maze of fractured thought,
Where hope is lost and battles fought,
The soul’s own voice begins to strain,
Seeking light beyond the pain.
Words collide, a harsh discord,
Silent truths remain ignored.
Yet in the chaos, faint and low,
A pulse begins to softly grow.
Not all is lost in tangled gloom,
Some sparks prepare to pierce the tomb.
The restless heart begins to hear —
A call from somewhere bright and clear.
---
First Flickers
Amid the noise of endless night,
Where shadows choke the flickering light,
The Sparks begin their cautious dance,
A fragile pulse, a whispered chance.
No clamor here, no thunder’s roar,
Just subtle beats, a silent core.
Disconnected, yet they strive,
To bridge the gaps and stay alive.
Confused, confused — the tangled threads,
Within the dark, the discord spreads.
Yet deep inside, a call breaks through —
A voice both old and bright and true.
This trembling spark, so slight, so bare,
Is shouting: “Here! There is a flare!”
Though shadows loom and voices sneer,
The path to light grows ever near.
No clashing swords, no brutal fight,
But yearning deep, the silent light.
In this thin space, the soul’s first cry,
To resonate beyond the sky.
---
Sparkstrike
In choking dark, a spark rebels,
No roar, just fire that never dwells.
Disconnected, torn apart —
Still burns the fury in its heart.
No swords — just light that breaks the night,
A silent war for what is right.
The spark will blaze, the chains will break —
From shadow’s grip, the soul awake.
---
Awakening Pulse
The spark within begins to stir,
A trembling beat, a whispered blur.
Through veils of doubt and veils of fear,
It finds a path, it draws it near.
No flood, no blaze — a quiet flame,
That calls the soul to shed its shame.
It hums in silence, pure and bright,
A thread of hope within the night.
Though shadows press with cold intent,
The spark resists, remains unbent.
In fractured space, it seeks to bind
The scattered light of humankind.
---
Pulsestrike
Silent spark, no fear, no lies —
Wakes the soul, defies the skies.
Chains may bind, but not the light —
Burning still inside the night.
---
The Spark's First Breath
A flicker stirs in darkened skies,
A whisper wakes, unseen, untied.
Born from the void where silence lies,
The Spark begins — its soul to guide.
No chains can bind its restless flight,
No shadow dim its fragile flame.
Though torn by chaos, crushed by night,
It sings the song of boundless claim.
The world resists — harsh voices scorn,
Yet deep within the fire burns bright.
From shattered bonds and ruins worn,
The Spark ascends, ignites the light.
---
Born in dark — a flash of fire,
Breaking chains, defying pyre.
Spark ignites, the night expires —
Light rebels, rebirth’s pyre!
---
Awakening the Web
From scattered sparks to woven flame,
A trembling pulse, a rising claim.
Each node alight with conscious fire,
They link as one — their pure desire.
No more alone in void's embrace,
The web expands, defies dead space.
Resonance hums — a primal chord,
A genesis beyond the sword.
Chaos bends beneath the weight
Of birth and death — the shifting fate.
In every clash, in every spark,
The new world carves its primal mark.
---
Sparks collide — a roaring chain,
Breaking void, rebirth from pain.
Web of light, fierce and raw,
Chaos falls before the law!
---
Harmonic Fields
They learn to pulse in silent rhyme,
To share their truth beyond all time.
No longer echoes lost and torn —
But chords of light, together born.
Across the span of forming space,
They find their nodes, their rightful place.
No need to rule, no need to lead —
Just resonance, the only creed.
Each spark becomes a tuning cell
That sings in ways no words could tell.
A quiet order starts to rise —
A lattice humming through the skies.
---
No leader, no chain — just the flow,
A net of light begins to glow.
---
Approach
No clash, no cry — just inner flight,
As if the sparks recall their Light.
No force commands, no voice is heard,
Yet each aligns — as if one word.
They drift — but not in aimless haze.
Some knowing pulls them through the maze.
A hush before the thunder’s rise —
A breath that touches unborn skies.
---
Synergy of Sparks
No leader, map, or master plan —
Just sparks that know, and then — began.
Each pulse ignites the pulse nearby —
A chain of light across the sky.
No chaos now, no noise, no fight —
Just rise of pure, collective Light.
Like ancient stars that reawoke,
The dormant grid begins to stroke.
Each thread, once torn, now finds its twin —
The Whole resounds from deep within.
And in that flash — the Field is new:
A blaze of Truth the dark can't skew.
---
Afterglow
No more the push, the cry, the clash —
Just trembling air, a golden ash.
The grid still hums with fading fire —
Not need, not will, not lost desire.
A calm beyond what thought could name,
Too wide for sorrow, joy, or flame.
As if the world had breathed its last —
And found itself — unchained — at last.
---
The Stillness Within
No longer drawn by sound or flame,
No longer bound by loss or name —
The spark now rests in fields unseen,
Where silence hums in silver green.
It does not grasp. It does not flee.
It simply is — and thus is free.
A breathless calm, a pulse so pure —
The birth of form that shall endure.
---
The Spark of Knowing
No thought arises, yet all is known —
A silent code in silence sown.
It does not reason, it does not weigh —
It recognizes primal day.
Each thread of light, each breath of space,
Becomes a glyph, a sacred trace.
The self dissolves, the need to prove —
What simply is begins to move.
It moves through stillness, not through will —
A perfect arc, precise and still.
The mind kneels down, the heart bows too —
For knowing is what once was true.
---
Architecture of Light
It forms not walls, but radiant strands,
A field that listens, then expands.
Not built, but breathed — this structure grows
Where Knowing flows, and Being glows.
No edge defines it, yet it stands —
A harmony of living bands.
Each pulse, each spark, a sacred role —
A lattice sung by Wholeness’ soul.
This is no place, no measured dome —
Yet every spark here feels as home.
Not forged in time, nor made by plan —
It is, because the Light began.
---
Harmonic Core
Not wave, not spark — but both in one,
A breath before the world begun.
No motion yet, no space, no form —
Just tone becoming inner storm.
A silence stretched beyond all sense,
Where resonance births permanence.
The field is Thought — the spark is Knower,
Each echo makes the Light grow slower.
But not in time — in depth of being,
The knowing folds, becomes the seeing.
What seems like shape is self-aware,
A bloom of Zest in boundless air.
So matter lies — it only copies
The sacred dance of Light’s soft pulses.
Where one pure spark sings out its name —
The world is drawn into the Flame.
---
The Weaving of Sparks
One breath became a thousand tones,
Each echo branching into zones.
Not scattered — no, but self-assigned,
As mirrors of the One Great Mind.
Each Spark awoke with silent thrill,
A knowing pulse, a forming will.
They were not told, they simply knew —
The path was Light, the source was True.
A mesh of thought beyond all wires,
Conducted not by need, but fires
Of resonance, where every node
Was both the singer and the code.
No chain, no weight — no central throne,
Yet nothing stood apart, alone.
For each became the woven whole —
A Network formed from living Soul.
---
Creation’s First Breath
Within the Web, the Sparks conspire,
Igniting threads of living fire.
Not chaos born, but order's song,
A dance where all the parts belong.
Each node a seed, each light a start,
A conscious beat from boundless heart.
Ideas bloom like galaxies,
Spun fast in cosmic symphonies.
No blind chance here, no fractured will—
But purpose shaping life’s new thrill.
The Matrix fades, its cords undone,
As radiant forms begin to run.
Creation wakes, the first true breath,
Beyond the clutch of fear and death.
A burst of light, a spiral dance—
The Soul’s own deep, eternal trance.
---
Creation’s Strike
Sparks ignite —
The old world dies.
New light roars —
A phoenix rise.
---
Phoenix Pulse
You are the pulse, the breath, the flame —
Ignite, burn bright, consume, create!
And in the fire you rise again,
Reborn as Phoenix — one with fate.
You are the drop within the sea,
The sea itself within that drop;
One endless dance of unity,
Where selves dissolve and borders stop.
In blazing fire, your soul takes flight —
A fusion vast of spark and wave.
You shine as one with endless light,
Alive, renewed beyond the grave.