Listening
- Barkus

- Aug 1
- 1 min read
Speak, small still voice, through the din of doubt and the clamor of my need to be certain.
Settle like dust on my trembling soul, unnoticed but undeniable.
Unravel the lies I mistook for protection and clothe me in quiet truth.
Let me be guided not by spectacle, but by your hidden breath.

