In Depths Within, The Seeker Churns Poem by Mohammad Younus

In depths within, the seeker churns,
Through veils of thought, the spirit burns.
A pilgrim lost in endless night,
Yet drawn beyond the veil of sight.

For words may shroud, yet not erase
The ember's pulse, the unseen grace.
Each twisted tongue, each faded cry,
Truth stands—unbroken, though gods may lie.

Amidst the forest, dense, unbowed,
Where silent roots drink night's black shroud,
A tree of lightning, fierce and bright,
Its roots in blood, its fruit in storm,
Unfurls its limbs to rend the form
Of sky and shadow, heart and bone.
Its whispers carve the doubter's throne.

In souls awake, its embers rise,
A primal sun behind closed eyes,
Where eyeless prophets learn to read
The runes that thrive where reason bleeds.

Each word, a star; each verse, a tide—
They pierce through voids where gods confide.
Not bound by dark, nor choked by thorn,
But forged in flames where truths are sworn.

Through tangled paths, we lose the thread,
Yet echoes guard what reason fled.
From crypts of self to shores unnamed,
It calls the lost, revives the maimed.

For light, divine, will carve its arc—
Through every shade of dusk and grey—
To etch in bone, to scar the bark,
The crush that makes the fragment whole.

MyKoul