True Poetry: Silence, Nature, and the Death of the Ego
True poetry is not spoken — it is felt. In stillness, the mind loosens its grip, and the soul remembers its union with Nature, God, and the breath of life itself.
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The Shadow of Death (a short narrative)
I held her hand until it regained warmth; I watered her with all of my tears but her breath wouldn’t seem to grow….
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