An obvious crack speaks of heroes dragged through in and from courts, mouths salted with lies, An obvious crack speaks and says the exterior can be punished while the inner center still remains clean, An obvious crack speaks of old gods with strong thunder—none could even split a kind of chosen will, An obvious crack speaks and I hear the law: breaking your body is a need, not the choice.
The courtyard whispers back like iron rings that clicks as boots that grind in the morning dust, The courtyard whispers back like none of these men broke, not in the place that matters, The courtyard whispers back that the bargain yells softly: “Kneel, and we shall ease the pain,” The courtyard whispers back and still answers like steady: “Keep your pain; and you’ll keep my soul.”
Those hard lessons gather where the night drips slow while the lamp burns thin and blue, Those hard lessons gather in the room where cruelty invents the new names for surrender, Those hard lessons gather and teach me this number one plain rule: power can force you to choose, but not transform, Those hard lessons gather and I choose the small yet brave yes’s from myself, again, and again.
Midnight midst echo with the scrape of bowls, like coughs, like the prayer without words, Midnight midst echo as I write my principles on breath so no kind of page can be seized, Midnight midst echo with unforeseen offers—like freedom, like favor, like a softer bed if I bend, Midnight midst echo as I say no to every want that pass, while shaking, like human, while wide awake…
Each boundless breath remains every after the lash, every after verdict, every after the crowds go home, Each boundless breath remains when the power remains only in thunder and my will is quiet light, Each boundless breath remains because each choice is not even broken; but it is only abandoned, Each boundless breath remains and I refuse to release it, refuse to sign it away, Each boundless breath remains like the last door in the last room, where only you and I hold the key…
Watchwords • Force can press; but it cannot change me. • Comfort so is cheap; but the core is not. • Keep every vow under the noise. • A choice survives what every flesh endures. • I keep the key and the answer to myself
Here is Tikatarot, who dares you to answer the question, “Who am I?”..
As and will always be reminding you to dream:
“As you are still the Master of your destiny and the maker of your dreams…”
