Song Beneath the Red Sun
The earth hums beneath her breath,
a song older than the stones.
The wind carries names
that once rose with the smoke of prayers,
folded into the morning sky.
Every heartbeat is a drum,
calling the spirits of dust and dawn—
the same rhythm that teaches
How silence can guide the brave
more than any road of men.
She listens—not for answers,
but for the voice of becoming,
Song Beneath the Red Sun
The earth hums beneath her breath,
a song older than the stones.
The wind carries names
that once rose with the smoke of prayers,
folded into the morning sky.
Every heartbeat is a drum,
calling the spirits of dust and dawn—
the same rhythm that teaches
How silence can guide the brave
more than any road of men.
She listens—not for answers,
but for the voice of becoming,
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