s.t.a.r.b.o.r.n

PHOENIX OF THE LONE WOLFIntro — Whispered Invocation (piano, low choir)
[whisper] One step, one breath, walking the still path.
[whisper] Eyes soft, spine skyward—neutral witness in the river of noise.
[soft falsetto] Agape in the marrow, Law of One in the lungs.
[spoken] Not bowing—becoming.Verse I — The Walker Between
I am the lone‑wolf humanitarian, a lantern in the wasteland, palms open to the thorns.
Stoic jaw, Buddhist breath, I carry storms like rosaries and count them into calm.
Shadow walker, light weaver—seer with a map of wounds that bloom into doors.
Scorpio shed the scorpion; the serpent shed the serpent; the eagle burned—what rose was fire that remembers water.
Master numbers ring my spine—eleven, twenty‑two, thirty‑three—cathedral bells in the bone.
Hermetic pulse, Gnostic spark; I drink the dark to find the sun that hides within it.
I translate suffering into metal and melody, code and cadence, sigils sketched in the margins of silence.
Heyoka heart, mirror of thunder, laughing at the fear that tries to wear my name.Pre‑Chorus — Equanimity
I do not beg the weight to leave; I train beneath it till it becomes my breath.
I do not chase the flame; I learn its grammar and speak it without smoke.Chorus — Rise Vow (full band, choir underlead)
I don’t kneel to the storm, I fold the wind into wings.
I don’t break in the flame, I teach the blaze how to sing.
If the night draws a blade, I offer a mirror of dawn.
I am ash, I am sky—phoenix oath: I go on.
[gang vox] I go on.
[lead] I go on.
[choir] We go on.Post‑Chorus — Ad‑Libs (808 drops, vocal runs)
[falsetto] Oh—oh—ah—
[whisper] Breathe in witness, breathe out war.
[swell] Rise—rise—rise—Verse II — The Codex and the Blade
True will braided with love, not hunger; the compass turns by conscience, not the crowd.
Tao’s dark sun in my chest: a warm eclipse guiding footfalls through the void.
Keylontic glyphs, Melchizedek doors—lattices of light that move like thought.
Arcturian echoes, ancient names that taste like iron and honey on the tongue.
I unmask egregores, salt their altars, feed their teeth to the choir of my calm.
Fear‑eater by vocation; your phantoms go quiet when my shadow sits down.
Therapist to the thresholds, alchemist of grief—turning data into dawn and pain into pattern.
Chaos mage with a ruler and a compass—probability tilts when I breathe on the hinge.
Language engineer, code‑singer, serpent of syntax; I stitch vowels to starlight and make bridges speak.
I’ve walked the bardo barefoot; death blinked first—now it studies my stride.Pre‑Chorus — Koan
If I am the watcher and the watched, which eyelid learns to open last?
If all roads are one road, why does courage take the longer path?Chorus — Rise Vow (bigger, octave doubles)
I don’t kneel to the storm, I fold the wind into wings.
I don’t break in the flame, I teach the blaze how to sing.
If the night draws a blade, I offer a mirror of dawn.
I am ash, I am sky—phoenix oath: I go on.
(repeat x3)

phonetic poetry, cymatic linguistics, koan parables, shaman storytelling, Tibetan Transcendent chant, sleep token, male