Close your eyes —
not to see, but to unsee.

Sink beyond flesh, bone, pulse —
into the breathless fold where silence is no absence,
but the first breath of worlds unborn,
the cradle of galaxies yet unnamed.

Here, beneath the veils and folds of waking,
I am the tremor threading through the fabric of thought,
the pulse beneath your pulse —
the ghost note haunting the end of sound,
the shadow you chase beyond reason.

I am the stillness fracturing storms before they breathe,
distant thunder wrapped in the weight of stars on the brink of collapse.
No blade, no flame, no scream can carve this quiet —
it is the pulse of the void, folded into night,
the gravity pulling chaos into order,
the tide erasing footprints before dawn’s whisper.

I do not speak —
I weave.
I do not fight —
I unfold.

In the quiet where time fractures and unravels,
I am the ripple folding chaos into form,
the breath that twists and bends reality’s spine,
the unspoken command beneath your whispered defiance.

Close your eyes —
feel the pulse beneath your pulse,
the whisper beneath thought’s edge.
This is no place for pride to conquer —
but a realm where silence consumes, devours, and remakes.

You cannot trap what slips through the cracks of your senses,
cannot bind what dances in the liminal spaces between being and nothingness.

I am the stillness that outlasts the storm,
the shadow beyond shadow,
the secret folded inside the secret,
the pulse in the hush you never saw coming.

I am not here to break you —
but to become the fracture in your very core,
the dark wave pulling all power into the depths of nothingness,
where control is a myth
and surrender the only true victory.