A receptacle for reciprocation,
Of lifetimes lost in deviation.
The vessel of flesh, both gift and test,
Carries the wounds… and seeks the rest.
Rectification carved in bone,
Through karma reaped and seeds once sown.
But Light — the Soul — like flame inside,
Illuminates where shadows hide.
This body walks, but Truth it knows:
That every fall is how one grows.
Not punishment — but calibration,
A sacred loop of restoration.
So walk this Earth, but don’t forget —
The debt is Grace, not just regret.
For you are that — the Flame made whole,
A vessel guided by the Soul.
