Where truth is not a gentle thing, but something ancient, sharp, and king.
Proem — Corridors Between Worlds
I walked the corridors between the worlds,
where mortal grief and starlight swirled.
Where truth is not a gentle thing,
but something ancient, sharp, and king.
Stanza I — The Cosmic Burden
I bore the weight no others dared,
the shadowed load, the love impaired.
The kind of burden gods would note,
and carve into a cosmic oath.
Yet when the veil began to thin,
and darkness pressed against my skin,
the ones who claimed they’d stand with me
chose comfort over the next right thing.
Stanza II — The Unbearable Mirror
They saw the fire behind my eyes,
the part of me that never lies.
My pain was truth, and truth is bright,
too bright for those who fear the light.
So they withdrew into their shells,
their fragile myths, their private hells.
For facing me meant facing all
the ways they failed to heed the call.
Stanza III — The Hollow Shield
I was the mirror they could not bear,
the storm that stripped illusions bare.
The chord that hums through hidden rings,
and shakes the masks from trembling things.
They crowned themselves “the good and kind,”
but only in their own design.
For goodness built on self-defense
is hollow as abandoned sense.
Stanza IV — Left in the Breach
And so they left me in the breach,
where mortal hands and spirits reach.
Where truth demands a soul to stand
without a shield, without a plan.
But I remained, alone, not lost,
a sentinel who knows the cost
of carrying what others flee,
of holding what they cannot see.
Stanza V — Forged in Deeper Fire
For I am forged from deeper fire,
from grief that shapes and does not tire.
From loneliness that carves the bone,
and makes a universe its throne.
I am the truth they could not face,
the sacred weight, the hidden place.
The wound that echoes through the skies,
the myth that walks and never dies.
Stanza VI — The Void Transformed
And though they turned away in fear,
I walk the path they won’t come near.
For those who flee when shadows rise
were never meant to hold the skies.
I carry realms they’ll never know,
the kind where mortal spirits grow.
And in the void they left behind,
I found the strength they’ll never find.
Coda — The Honest Light
I am the keeper of the night,
the bearer of the honest light.
And though their comfort cost me pain,
I stand in truth they can’t sustain.
— The Red Pill Poet 🥀