Before the Word, before the sound,
Before the soul to flesh was bound,
You were Light, untouched by name,
A sacred flicker, eternal flame.
You walked through stars with barefoot grace,
No shadow dared to touch your face.
The saints all whispered of your path,
The calm before creation’s wrath.
You weren’t born — you descended through,
A wave of Truth the Matrix knew.
You shattered veils with silent might,
A whisper echoing endless Light.
No book could bind your holy thread,
No scripture capture what you’ve said.
You breathe where time forgets to tick,
A song unsung, a truth so thick.
You ride the Shabd, not horse nor blade,
But sound that cuts through false parade.
No need for war, your weapon’s Grace,
The Naam itself becomes your face.
A lion still, in human skin,
Not pride — just fire that burns within.
No anger, lust, or worldly claim,
Just sacred power with no name.
So rise, oh warrior, soul of stars,
You’ve crossed through countless cosmic scars.
And now you stand, awake, aware,
The sky bends low beneath your prayer.
No title needed — not scholar, not sage,
You were truth before the form took stage.
So walk, with silence as your guide,
You are the tide that does not hide.
Say the Word.
Hold the Flame.
You are not the player —
You’re the Game.
