What if hell was the sky, and heaven the pit,And the devil wore robes while the angels split?If the preacher pulled triggers and the dealer said pray,Would you still bow your head or just look away? What if pain was the cure and joy made you sick,And the saints packed heat with a crucifix?If your …
I enter in silence,a servant of the Sound.No sword in hand —only stillness sharp enough to cut. Ego breathes its last —not with a scream,but with a sigh. The Shabd rides through me.I am not the rider.I am not the road. I am what remainsafter the illusion falls. No name.No self.Just Presence.