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.

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.

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.

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 ♦

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 ♦

Laughter skips across the surface of the lake like a skipping stone emanating different eerie high-pitched tones that seem to echo the ghostly chirps of birds that have gone quiet and no longer fly. Nothing like one would imagine a stone's speech to be like.

A fine flat surface water-weaves itself once more. Nothing threatens to disturb it again. Not even bubbling from below. There are no thermal vents with life growing along their warm edges. No aquatic life beneath that unknowingly breathes its wishes which are carried to the surface and up into the blank slate of a sky.

Beneath it all is a cool concrete floor much like the ones in any backyard pool in the suburbs. Nothing of nature, of adaptability. Only neutral stone at its depths.