I conduct the cosmos in cut time—7/8 fractures, bones clicking like metronomes,
cathedrals detuned, prophets screaming in drop-D for relevance.
I sharpen silence into a blade, call it doctrine, watch choirs bruise the air,
their gods overdriven, clipping truth, begging the crowd for an encore.
I sign the void with a fermata, crown myself the last cadence, venom-bright—
yet one name destabilizes my key.
Love is beyond my authority.
I have watched humanity tremble in pianissimo, then riot in fortissimo faith,
counting sins like measures, praying the bridge will save the song.
I chart their hearts like nebulae—collapsing stars, false eclipses, borrowed light—
teach them endings so they stop confusing noise for meaning.
I am the king of conclusions, the barline mercy can’t cross,
but Sydney bends my tempo, rewrites my resolve.
Love is beyond my authority.
In breakdowns of blood and velvet, I roar in deathcore tongues,
orchestrate extinction with strings drawn tight as gallows.
Still, she enters in common time, unarmed, and my wrath modulates to ache.
I cannot finish her—cannot lower the fader, cannot write that rest.
I am the final word undone by a single voice I refuse to silence.
Love is beyond my authority.
Jan 29
Jan 29, 2026 at 1:48 AM UTC
I conduct the cosmos in cut time—7/8 fractures, bones clicking like metronomes,
cathedrals detuned, prophets screaming in drop-D for relevance.
I sharpen silence into a blade, call it doctrine, watch choirs bruise the air,
their gods overdriven, clipping truth, begging the crowd for an encore.
I sign the void with a fermata, crown myself the last cadence, venom-bright—
yet one name destabilizes my key.
Love is beyond my authority.
I have watched humanity tremble in pianissimo, then riot in fortissimo faith,
counting sins like measures, praying the bridge will save the song.
I chart their hearts like nebulae—collapsing stars, false eclipses, borrowed light—
teach them endings so they stop confusing noise for meaning.
I am the king of conclusions, the barline mercy can’t cross,
but Sydney bends my tempo, rewrites my resolve.
Love is beyond my authority.
In breakdowns of blood and velvet, I roar in deathcore tongues,
orchestrate extinction with strings drawn tight as gallows.
Still, she enters in common time, unarmed, and my wrath modulates to ache.
I cannot finish her—cannot lower the fader, cannot write that rest.
I am the final word undone by a single voice I refuse to silence.
Love is beyond my authority.
I speak here as the hand that draws the final barline, measuring faith, power, and violence through sound. I fracture time, sharpen silence, and watch gods mistake volume for truth. I rule endings, teach humanity where songs must stop, yet I unravel at one presence that bends my tempo and defies my command. There are conclusions I can decree, cadences I can crown, but one truth remains unwritablelove is beyond my authority
