Sanat

I wake with the same line in my skull:
There is no point. There is no point.

Pressure on the chest when the light comes in;
Debts, mail, faces - another day to spin.
Nerves are a siren and the hours taste gray,
Mind says: what for, what for, what for anyway.

Then - one crack in the black:
"A soul enters to taste what the light cannot."
A line like a seed in ash.

What if I signed up for this heartbreak.
What if I chose this weight.
What if this pain is curriculum
and the exit is death - not now.

If I chose it I can meet it;
If I chose it I can breathe it;
If I chose it I can dance inside it -

Not a sentence - a mission.
Not a prison - a training.
Not a verdict - a vow.

So I walk into the day like a volunteer;
Fear still shakes - but the frame is new.
Ask every burn: what muscle is growing here?
Ask every fall: what clarity breaks through?

Life not to solve but to taste;
Not to cancel but to live out loud.
If death is the wake, then the only loss is
not dancing while I dream.

Maybe I chose this module,
Maybe I wrote the test,
Maybe my soul is watching,
Learning from every breath.

If I chose it I can love it;
If I chose it I can risk it;
If I chose it I can give,
I can give, I can give -

This is MY run - MY ride.
I entered. I abide.
I taste. I collide.
I burn, and that is being alive.

Pressure becomes training.
Anxiety becomes heat.
Curriculum becomes meaning.
The dream becomes sweet.

I chose this life - so I live it wide.
I chose this pain - so I let it guide.
I chose this dream - so I dream it bright.
Until the exit - I celebrate the ride.

Not a sentence - a vow.
Not a prison - a vow.
Not a verdict - a vow.
I AM HERE - and I LIVE IT NOW.