What am I aligned
to make of this?
And have I given up on magic
if I don't?

Gentle oracle,
some things
just happen to us.

You aren't alone
despite spirits
not showing the interest
you desire,
but I taste your emptiness.

I desire a control too.

Despair of
silence from the gods.
Demarcate reality
from the hatred and
the odds.

ᵀᴬᴿᴬᴺᵀᵁᴸᴬ ᶜᴿᴬᵂᴸˢ
ᶜᴬᴮᴱᴿᴺᴱᵀ ˢᴾᴿᴱᴬᴰ ᶜᴿᴼˢˢ ᵂᴬᴸᴸˢ
ˢᵀ. ᴹᴬᴿᵀᴵᴺˢ ᴳᴼᴼˢᴱ ᶜᵁᵀ ᴼᴺ ᶜᴿᴬᶜᴷᴱᴰ ᴼᴾᴱᴺ yellow ᴾᴸᴬᵀᴱˢ
ᵂᴼᴿᴺ ᵀᴴᴵᴺ ᴬˢ ᴴᴱᴿ ᴾᴬᵀᴵᴱᴺᶜᴱ
ᴰᴿᴱᴬᴿᵞ ᵂᴱᴮˢ ᴰᴵˢᴾᴸᴬᵞᴱᴰ ᴾᴱᴿ ᴼᴸᴰ ᶠᴼᴿᴳᴼᵀᵀᴱᴺ ˢᴼᵁᴸ
ᵀᴱᴺ ᴼᶠ ᴴᴱᴬᴿᵀˢ ᵁᴾˢᴵᴰᴱ down
ᶜᴴᴱᴱᴿˢ ᴱᶜᴴᴼᴵᴺᴳ ᴬᴺᴰ ˢᵂᴱᴸᵀᴱᴿᴵᴺᴳ
ᴸᴵᴷᴱ ᴿᴼᴮᴵᴺ ᴴᴼᴼᴰ'ˢ ᴬᴿᴿᴼᵂ ᴵᴺˢᴵᴰᴱ ᴴᴵˢ ᴴᴱᴬᴰ
ᵂᴱᴸᴸ ᴹᴬᵞᴮᴱ ᵀᴴᴬᵀˢ ᴬ ᴸᴵᵀᵀᴸᴱ ˢᴬᴿᶜᴬˢᵀᴵᶜ
ᴵᴺ ᴴᴵˢ ᴴᴱᴬᴰ ᴮᵁᵀ ᴺᴼᵀ ᴵᴺ
ᵂᴵᵀᴴᴵᴺ ˢᴼᴮᴮᴵᴺᴳ ᶠᴼᴳᴳᵞ ᴱᵞᴱˢ,
ᴬ ᵛᴼᴵᴰ ᴼᶠ ᴮᴸᴬᶜᴷ ᶜᴿᴼᵂˢ. ᴬᴺᴰ ᵂᴵᵀᴴᴵᴺ ᵀᴴᴱᴵᴿ ᴱᵞᴱˢ,ᴰᴬᴿᴷᴱᴿ ᶜᴿᴼᵂˢ ᴬᴺᴰ ᵂᴵᵀᴴᴵᴺ ᵀᴴᴱᴹ;ᴵᴺᴬᴰᴱᵟᵁᴬᵀᴱ ᶠᴸᴱˢᴴ ᴰᴱᴾᴿᴵᵛᴱᴰ ᴼᶠ ᴰᴿᴱᴬᴹˢ ᴬᴺᴰ ᴺᴼᵁᴿᴵˢᴴᴹᴱᴺᵀ ˢᴼ ᴵᵀˢ ᴵᴰᴸᴱ ᴹᴵᴺᴰ ᶜᴬᴺᴺᴼᵀ ᴴᴬᴺᴰᴸᴱ ᴸᴼᴼᴷᴵᴺᴳ ᵀᴴᴿᴼᵁᴳᴴ ᵀᵂᴼ ᴮᴸᵁᴿᴿᵞ ᵂᴵᴺᴰᴼᵂˢ ˢᴴᴵᴺᴵᴺᴳ ᶠᴬᴸˢᴱ ᴴᴼᴾᴱ
ᴳᴿᴬᵀᴵᶠᵞᴵᴺᴳ ᴿᴱᴹᴬᴿᴷˢ ᵀᴼ ᴳᴱᵀ the ᴮᴬᴸᴸ ᴿᴼᴸᴸᴵᴺᴳ ᶠᴼᴿ trust ᴬᴺᴰ integrity
ᵀᴴᴿᴼᵁᴳᴴ ˢᵂᴱᴬᵀᴵᴺᴳ ᴬᴺᴰ imaginary ᴸᴬᵁᴳᴴᴵᴺᴳ ᴸᴬᵞ ˢᴱᶜᴿᴱᵀˢ ᴵᴺ plain ˢᴵᴳᴴᵀ
ᵁᴾᴼᴺ ᶠᵁᴿᵀᴴᴱᴿ ᴵᴺᵛᴱˢᵀᴵᴳᴬᵀᴵᴼᴺ,
ᴬᴿᴼˢᴱ ᵂᴬˢᴴᴱᴰ ᴬᵂᴬᵞ ᴮᴸᴱᴬᶜᴴ ᴬᴺᴰ ˢᵀᴬᴵᴺˢ ᴬᴺᴰ ˢᴹᴱᴸᴸˢ of iron
ᵀᴴᴱ ᴹᴵᴿᴿᴼᴿ ᴵˢ the ᴼᴺᴸᵞ ˢᵁᴿᵛᴵᵛᴼᴿ?
ᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ ᴵᴺ ᴵᵀˢ ᶜᴼᶠᶠᴵᴺ ᴼᴺ ᵀᴴᴱ ᶜᴬᴿᴰᴮᴼᴬᴿᴰ ᶠᴸᴼᴼᴿ ᴵᵀ ˢᵀᴬᴸᴷᴱᴰ ᵀᴴᴱᴹ
ᵂᴵᵀᴴ ᴬᴺ ᴬᶜᴱ ᴵᴺˢᴵᴰᴱ ᴵᵀˢ ᶠᴿᴬᴳᴵᴸᴱ ᴴᴼᴸᴱˢ ᴬᴺᴰ ᴬ ᶜᴼᴵᴺ flipped ᴼᴺ ᴵᵀˢ ᴴᴱᴬᴰ
ᴬᴺᴰ ᴼᵁᵀˢᴵᴰᴱ them, Fury ᴮᴵᴿᴰˢ ᴳᴸᴵᴰᴵᴺᴳ, ˢᴴᴼᵂᴱᴿᴵᴺᴳ ᴵᴺ ᵀᴴᴵᴺ ᴵᶜᴱ ᴬᴺᴰ hail
ᵂᴴᴱᴺ ᵀᴼᴿᵀᵁᴿᴱ ᴿᴱᴬᴷᴱᴰ ᶠᴿᴼᴹ the ᴱᴬᴿᵀᴴ ᴹᴵᴸᴱˢ ᴮᴱᴸᴼᵂ ᴵᴺ ᶠᴵᴿᴱ ᵀᴬᴵᴸᴼᴿᴱᴰ ᵀᴼ ᵀᴴᴱ rain’s ᵂᴵˢᴴᴱˢ ᴬᴺᴰ ᵀᴴᴱ ˢᴸᴱᴱᵀ'ˢ ᴱᴹᴾᴼᵂᴱᴿᴱᴰ ᶜᴼᵂᴬᴿᴰᴸᴵᴺᴱˢˢ
ᴬᴺᴰ ᵀᴴᴱ ᴴᴬᴵᴸ ᴾᵁᵀ ᴵᵀ’ˢ ᶠᴼᴼᵀ down ˢᴼ ᴵᵀ ᴹᴬᵞ ᶜᵁᴿᴱ ᵀᴴᴱ roads ᶠᴿᴼᴹ ᴵᵀˢ ᴰᴿᴼᵂᴺᴵᴺᴳ
ᴮᵁᵀ ᴵᵀ ᴸᴬᴺᴰᴱᴰ as ᴿᴼᶜᴷˢ,ᶠᴼᴿ ᵀᴴᴱ ᴳᴿᴼᵁᴺᴰ ᵂᴬˢ ᴬᴺᴰ ᴵˢ ᵀᴼᴼ ᴮᴱᵀᴿᴬᵞᴱᴰ ᴮᵞ ᵀᴴᴱ ᴬᵀᴹᴼˢᴾᴴᴱᴿᴱ'ˢ ᴾᴱᴿᴵᴸ
ᴬᴺᴰ ᵀᴴᴱ ᴹᴵᴿᴿᴼᴿ... ᶜᴼᵁᴸᴰᴺᵀ ˢᴬᵛᴱ ᵀᴴᴱᴹ ᴬᴺᵞ ᴸᴼᴺᴳᴱᴿ
They all ᵂᴱᴿᴱ ᴹᴼᴺˢᵀᴱᴿˢ
ᴱᴺˢᴺᴬᴿᴱᴰ ᴵᴺ ᵀᴴᴱ ᴰᴱᵛᴵᴸ'ˢ ᴾᴵᴺᵀ ᴼᶠ ᶜᴼᴺᶜᴿᴱᵀᴱ ᴹᴬᴰᴺᴱˢˢ
ᴵᴺᵀᴱᴳᴿᴵᵀᵞ ᵂᴬˢ ᴳᴼᴺᴱ
ˢᴼ only ᴿᴱᴹᴬᴵᴺᴱᴰ
ᵀᴿᵁˢᵀ

I gather words like fallen leaves,
Whispers of time caught in the breeze.
Each syllable a step untaken,
Each phrase a path half-awakened.

What if silence held the key,
To maps of thoughts that long to be?
Not carved in stone but etched in air,
Invisible threads that lead somewhere.

The ink may spill, the lines may blur,
Yet meaning stirs, a quiet murmur.
For in the spaces between the known,
Lies the truth we’ve never shown.

Webs of stories form beliefs,
influencing actions,
creating a concept of me—
until I become myth.

A synthesis of cells,
speaking electric tongues,
a possession of matter
by patterns that think.

Through a brain and a spine
and everything between,
a unity emerges:
scattered fragments
woven whole.

Interactions form bonds,
all the way up, all the way down.
Outside and within:
culture consuming society,
society consuming self.

Self devours body,
body devours mind,
biology consumes chemistry,
chemistry consumes physics,
down to quantum foam.

I’m told that I’m a dream produced
by time and space and DNA, that’s organized in such a way
that chemistry and physics are enough to make it dream,
so let’s accept that really there’s no ghost in the machine.

But still it seems that I exist, and isn’t it amazing dreams
can interact with other dreams,
do calculus and higher math,
gaze at the stars, make art, make love,
investigate it all and find
we’re just another accident of chemistry and space and time.

Dear, humanity

     I, Death, will make a human realize the value in life. Not the symbolic items you hold dear to you. Humans as a species see value in all the wrong places. You hover over bought items and how many expensive things you have. Let me ask you, death to human, what will you do? What will you do when you're on an operating table barely sustaining life? What will you do when you stop breathing in the middle of the night in the beautiful luxury home you bought.
    If you don't know the answer my friend, then allow me to tell you, it's nothing. Whether it's the operating table, your luxury home, or in a back alley on a cold night. Whether you're rich or poor, young or old, sad or happy, I'll always come for you in the end. Your precious items you hold most dear will not save you and they will not come with you. That is when you will see, that the value of life is not being rich or having expensive things, I find that the people that are happier at my doorstep than any are the ones without.
     So if I ever let you have a second chance to live this life, don't squander it on imputant items. Spend your days wisely, do mingful things, and help your fellow humans. Cause in the end while you're breathing your last breaths of air the ones you make bonds with will be there for you.

                                               Sincerely: Death

Do you remember?
When you told me i am a bizzare monster unable to love
Ugly pig that no one will ever want.
Do you remember?
The day you say you don't want me
The moment when your hands got me bruises
The second when you pushed me to thinking...
I. WANNA. DIE.
No matter how hard i tried to please you and dad
It was always not good enough.
I just wanted you to be proud of me
To love me...
When i was crying in my bedroom, squizing my pillow, pulling my hair out of my head, shouting noiselessly.
I told you one day i wanna **** myself.
Do you remember?
You told me to do it.

The eternal journey.
You can’t save yourself, you must be good & kind; and in time, this will help save others, from yourself.

It’s not a short term plan…
You’ll need to have faith and conviction, for you won’t be there to witness the final result.

I am a bundle of thread
I am a thorn
I am unspooling
I am shorn
I am a needle
I am the haystack
I am off-beaten
I am the path
I am a carriage
I am a horse
I am the outcome
I am the cause
I am the future
I am the past
I am the now
I am what lasts
I am a soldier
I am a fool
I am the Weapon
I am a Tool
I am rusted
I am unhinging
I am broken but
I am glinting
I am fractured
I am golden
I am beauty
In eyes beholden.