My shape is a puzzle of shattered light,
From a darkness beyond the hands of clocks.
I've floated in crystalline tears through nights,
That drowned my pulse in their quantum shocks.

Once I'd kissed the rim of my own dissolution,
My dreams became ether suspended in place.
Heard echoes from heaven of my soul's exclusion,
Banished to blackness, forbidden from grace.

But my system of nerves, interstellar threads,
Each signal, a hope that I'd lost in the fire.
They reshape the grid of my own waking dread.
I was Disconnected. My perception, unwired.

My atoms, ensnared in this love unaligned.
The flux of euphoria then glitched the code.
Chased every god who tread through my mind.
As my belief in them began to implode.

I transcended fast as a Tachyon verve,
Connecting dimensions with chords of my ache.
My being, potentialized, now unobserved.
As moments of reality shown to me, faked.

With every tremor that left a deep scar,
Is a power evolving my mind, kinetic.
I arrive in the void passed the brightest of stars.
As high, pathetically, as the hypothetic.

♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦  
"The Quantum Bound Poet "

She came to me, with a vial of dust.
A means of a healing, the taste was like rust.
Her wings, her secret. Her halo gave no light,
As my desperate song found her ears in the night.

I knew what she offered. I knew the whole game.
And yet, I moved forward—a moth to a flame.
Her vial sparked flares that pierced through the black.
I knew in that moment; I’d never look back.

An ember lit the dust, its smoke filled my being—
An offering to the soul, to keep it from leaving.
Each grain was a vow. Each breath was a sin.
Yet a life that laid to end, now stood to begin.

But when the dawn broke, she was no longer there.
Just poison on my breath and dust in the air.
I did find the vial, but no other trace.
Just a void in the air and a numb, rusty taste.

I walk the dark path. Her whispers, my guide.
Chasing silence, so me and my demons can hide.
She gave me the calm in a handful of ash.
For once, I have laid down the guilt of my crash.

I'm addicted. I still sing that desperate song.
Here to stay, where I may, or I may not belong.
A forbidden solace, that keeps me in the calm.
My shadow that still tries to pull me along.

I remain tormented, so this dust stays near.
Angelic in essence, how it banishes fear.
This angel didn’t save me. For this, I have sight.
But gave me the will to outlast one more night.

By day, perceived evil. By night, purely good.
Should I alter my state? For a will to live, I could.
Might someone judge me? Who’s to say it's not right?
To choose life one more time and keep carving out light.

♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦

Drown all drunk in peace so deep,
Where silence sings and angels sleep.
Let joy's wild fire gently fade,
And calm, like rivers, softly invade.

Let the stars fall, not in haste,
But bathed in peace, a sacred taste.
O' Cup Bearer come, with gentle hand,
To still the soul, and make it stand.

The moon shall dim its glowing light,
And rest in peace through endless night.
Make the mountains bow with grace,
Their peaks a reflection of Heaven’s face.

Let winds, once fierce, now whisper clear,
A song of peace for all to hear.
Drown the oceans, once wild and loud,
In waves of stillness, soft and proud.

Let the tides of chaos cease to rise,
And peace descend from distant skies.
Let hearts, once wild, now find their rest,
In the quiet calm that fills the chest.

O' Cup Bearer pour, with tender care,
A liquid peace beyond compare.
Let souls, intoxicated by bliss,
Find their peace in the endless abyss.

Drown the creation in tranquil sound,
Where silence reigns, and love is found.
In the depths of peace, let all be free,
Drunk on calm, in eternity.

Drown all drunk in peace so pure,
A solace deep, forever sure.
In stillness, let the world be swept,
A moment of peace where none is kept.

They fall—not all at once, but in quiet, stolen moments. He writes her poetry in the night, she hums songs into his silence. Their love spills like golden light, stretching into endless nights, bending time, making them believe in forever.

She calls him kiddo, teasingly, as they walk under a sky filled with memories. He calls her his favorite, because she is the spark that sets his world ablaze. Together, they write their own symphony, unwritten yet deeply felt.

But all love stories have their storms.