Drifting through a spiral of sacred unrest… I hopelessly thought I had earned the greatest love: an undeniable connection mimicking fate, a love that endures and transcends time and space
Musical Accompaniment: Golden Eyes and Tears - Eli & Fur
Like a sarcophagus cracking open under the weight of centuries, it struck me the moment our eyes met—a gaze illuminating something ancient and buried within me, like a torch flaring to life in darkness...Love? No, something deeper, older, more recognizable. It was a curse unearthed, a spirit awakened from centuries of silence—a soul-echo that cracked open a forgotten longing. Who planted that yearning in me? Was it him? Was it God? Or was it the part of me that remembered something eternal?
Am I drawn to pain, or does it recognize me by name? What lies ahead—redemption or repetition?
With my head in the clouds, I couldn't see that my co-captain was merely drifting—not sailing—weighted by chains placed by another, an invisible anchor. He spiraled from our shared utopia, steering us toward a familiar two-dimensional realm where egos and fears run wild. His mind, clouded by unresolved ties he couldn't name—much less cut—left him seeing only a chaotic, stormy vignette. While I thought we were forging transcendent, he was still navigating old terrain—haunted waters mapped by someone else's storms . I mistook his flashes of wonder for arrival, but they were only intermissions.
My error was in forgetting that my prismatic, multidimensional view of reality was a gift granted by God, not something I could sustain through a man. Like a diamond forged through mercy, each facet of my soul had been polished by pain . But before I could share my light, it was knocked from my hands and shattered. My clarity splintered into kaleidoscopic confusion—like a sacred relic breaking during excavation, its brilliance scattered under the weight of exposure. What others saw as danger was truly discernment. In the blur, I found myself clinging to a distant, dismal mirage disguised as destiny.
Was it a test of love or a curse? Are they not one in the same? Yes.
The peaceful, happy shore I saw ahead was just an elusive illusion. I was deceptively drawn into a barren desert. Why? I’ve asked God that with both anger and awe. How could something that felt so spiritual, so synchronistic—unravel into confusion? Why would He lead me to water that disappears when I kneel to drink? The disappointment weighs heavily on me, and I long to surrender it to God. But surrender has never been my native tongue. I speak in scripts of survival, sharpened by betrayal, loss, and the need to outthink pain before it happens.
I don’t trust the morning light. I brace for it. Because every time I thought I’d made it out, dawn came too bright—and revealed that what I’d clung to was already gone.
Still…
Because I do want to believe. Not in fate scripted by someone’s silence. But in a love that doesn’t consume. I don’t want to be the offering. I’m not the lesson. I am the third daughter of destiny—the unspoken heir, the sovereign spirit draped in dust and defiance.
God, I don’t want to be strong anymore.
I want to be seen. I want to be softened. I want to be held.
Take this illusion of love I keep recreating.
Take the way I chase echoes and call them omens.
Take the burden that clings to me like a second skin.
Peel it off. Make me new.
Not because I am worthy.
But because I am Yours.