Threads in the Still

Threads in the Still

I do not knock, I do not cry,
I wait where futures go to die.
You seek the path, but not the cost—
Some answers bloom from what was lost.

The wind won’t turn, the stars won’t speak—
The truth you want is not the weak.

I read the threads in the still,
Where silence bends to hidden will.
No sword, no prayer, no sacred rite
Can twist what waits beyond the night.
You may plead or you may run—
But what is woven is never undone.

The flame you hold will dim with grace,
For fate wears every mirrored face.
Not every door will let you through—
And not all signs were meant for you.

The bones don’t lie, the voice is thin—
The echo knows where you’ve been.

I read the threads in the still,
Where even time must lose its will.
I do not shield, I do not bend—
The Diviner stands where visions end.
Bring your doubt and drop your name—
What leaves this place is not the same.

One for truth, and one for fear,
One to see what won’t appear.
Speak your vow, release the flame—
And leave behind your need for name.

I read the threads in the still,
In shadow’s hush and twilight chill.
No promise kept, no fate denied—
The Diviner walks where truths abide.
So ask me once, but not again—
For knowing breaks far more than men.