Invisible Books

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