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Genesis: Echoes

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A state of confusion often dissolves into an art of diffusion, a scattered brilliance. I find myself a stranger to this new realm of feeling, something that may evade my grasp but still demands my mastery. I must win this game. I’ve changed, molding myself to fit the masks of unknown faces, drifting through the shadowed alleys of my own identity.

The Book of Genesis reverberates with the echoes of spirits, caught and suspended within its inked pages. But I refuse to be one of them, a ghost woven into the words. Rage, fortify me; love, render me soft as a feather. Rage, wrap me in your fire; love, cradle me close. Let me sleep in the womb of beginnings once more.

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