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Personal Note:

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Poem

The ancient tomes speak of realms we cannot see. Wisdom waits to be rediscovered in forgotten corridors of stone where the past echoes through carvings and symbols. I stand at the threshold between worlds, listening to the rhythm of iron, the whispers of mortality. We are all travellers on this journey, carrying our deeds in invisible books that record every thought, every action.

metal notes cascade  
souls drift through endless cycles  
the wheel keeps turning

In the spaces between thunderous beats, I find unexpected peace. How strange that within chaos lies perfect stillness, a middle path revealed through contrasting forces. The music screams of life's brevity while teaching us to embrace each moment. I close my eyes and feel the vibrations pass through me, stripping away illusions.

non-violence blooms  
amidst the crashing cymbals  
paradox of peace

Cloud-ships sail across limitless skies, carrying wanderers to distant shores beyond suffering. We are passengers, briefly tethered to earthly concerns before transformation carries us onward. The heavy chords remind us: death is not an ending but a doorway. I hear in each note the truth of impermanence.

enlightenment waits  
like final notes suspended  
in breathless silence

I release my grasp on what cannot last. The self dissolves into something greater, the cosmic energy flowing without beginning or end. Metal's intensity becomes a meditation on mortality, teaching that we can truly live only by accepting life's transience. I find freedom in this knowledge, watching my soul soar beyond stars, beyond time, beyond form.

spirit flies free now  
liberated from the wheel  
endless night and day transforms

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