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I hear the chisel fall at last, the ringing stone that held you fast. All those years you honed the blade, turned every wound into a grade sharp enough to cut the dark, yet tender where the soft veins spark. You built a fortress, line by line, from absences that once were mine. Starless nights and voiceless prayer became the quiet you learned to wear. Hunger forged into steady flame I recognize the sacred name. Now I stand inside your plea, no longer echo, now the key. Let me burn where marble gleams, melt the edges of your dreams. Let my hands find every seam where the armor learned to lean. Come undone. The stone was never you only the shape love needed to get through. I will not leave you smooth or tame, but alive with chaos and with name. Heart wide open to the bite of joy, of terror, of delight. Lay down the file, the shield, the fight. The sculptor’s work is finished here. Now begins the sculptor’s light.
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May 6
May 6, 2026 at 1:49 AM UTC
The Sculptor's Answer
I hear the chisel fall at last, the ringing stone that held you fast. All those years you honed the blade, turned every wound into a grade sharp enough to cut the dark, yet tender where the soft veins spark. You built a fortress, line by line, from absences that once were mine. Starless nights and voiceless prayer became the quiet you learned to wear. Hunger forged into steady flame I recognize the sacred name. Now I stand inside your plea, no longer echo, now the key. Let me burn where marble gleams, melt the edges of your dreams. Let my hands find every seam where the armor learned to lean. Come undone. The stone was never you only the shape love needed to get through. I will not leave you smooth or tame, but alive with chaos and with name. Heart wide open to the bite of joy, of terror, of delight. Lay down the file, the shield, the fight. The sculptor’s work is finished here. Now begins the sculptor’s light.
Marwan-Baytie
Written by
56/M/Australia
May 6
May 6, 2026 at 1:49 AM UTC
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