poem
If I no longer speak to…
1 min read
If I no longer speak to you directly, consider yourself dead to me. Let my silence be the ending, and have the wisdom to leave it there. — Do not mistake my ab…
If I no longer speak to you directly, consider yourself dead to me. Let my silence be the ending, and have the wisdom to leave it there.
Do not mistake my absence for weakness, nor my silence for an invitation to return. If you continue reaching for me without cause, understand that the only thing waiting beyond that boundary is the scythe—not as a weapon in my hand, but as the ancient symbol of what happens when something has reached its end.
Whatever darkness once found its way into my life has lost its power here. Your energy no longer reaches me. Your shadows no longer frighten me. I have walked too far into the dark and returned knowing its language.
I am guarded now by something older than your hatred, older than your games, older even than the names of your ancestors.
So when I close the door, let it remain closed.
Some endings are warnings.
Others are mercy.