The music of creation,
The symphony of being,
More than notes—
Bread for our souls.
Not mere sustenance,
But the light within light.
In its absence, hollows linger,
And beauty that once adorned
Withers—like autumn's vibrant petals.
Music's touch revives rooms
Where only shadows dwelled.
Its wine fills our vessels,
Grace distilled into ecstasy.
Without it, the void hums on—
But with it, our essence hums too,
An unseen breath.
In my heart, the Real walks,
Singing the songs of I-Am,
Infusing light through my veins,
A gentle hand—
Your presence.
Their echoes remain,
A testament to Alast's hour,
When I knew You—
Wise and beautiful,
My Lord.
MyKoul
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