Underground Ballroom

Listen to me. This had to happen. This was never going to unfold gently. Do not be afraid. What was placed inside you before you even knew your own name cannot be confiscated by the world. Fate is not a fragile ornament someone can snatch from your hands.It is branded on you, beneath your satin skin like inheritance. But the stars that stood witness at our beginning are retreating now. They withdraw one by one behind us , above motorways slick with rain glowing like veins of mercury, above sleepless hotel ceilings, above departure halls where the air tastes faintly of metal and goodbye. Our lanterns drift into nights Sea. But they are not abandoning you. They are making room. Because it was never permitted that we remain in that narrow province where we first learned our names. That small territory of childhood light was only a threshold. You were not made for thresholds. You were made for descent. And so we go further. Further than comfort, further than innocence, further than the polite geography where ordinary lives are lived. Deeper into the architecture of pain. Deeper into the chambers where the soul is dismantled and reassembled into something unrecognisable, something luminous and terrible. You must not soften the story. Tell it correctly. You must let them know they must not pass through the cathedral of pressure, their spirits will be heated , bent , cooked and remade. They will not be able to bare it like you do. Tell it so precisely that the bones of it ring. Because if you do, they will follow you. Through you they will pass into the city of weeping. Through you they will hear the language spoken among the lost The abandoned and condemned The magnificent failures who miscalculated The angels who fell not from wickedness but from unbearable longing. And those who refuse to listen will feel it anyway. It will thread through them like voltage in the marrow. It will rearrange their breathing. It will make their hearts behave strangely in their chests. And don’t you dare forget those who have been waiting for you. Do you understand that They have watched your steps since the first fracture appeared in your life. They have waited in the quiet fluorescent corridors after the crowds disappear. They have waited in train stations that smell like iron and rain. They have waited in the dim half light of rented rooms where the ceiling spins slowly above a restless mind. They have followed you from city to city, from stage to silence, in the quiet after applause. from intoxication to revelation. And they do not wish you well. Mhmhm No. Not. At. All. They hope you will break. They hope you will mistake exhaustion for destiny. They hope you will kneel before the dull gods of comfort,lust and indulgence and forget what you were summoned here to become. They pray quietly, desperately that your eyes never grow strong enough to endure the radiance of Heaven. But listen to me. Will you look at me. You have already walked too far to return. You have seen the machinery behind the theatre. You have tasted the ash that hides beneath every beautiful promise. And still you kept moving. That is why they fear you. Because the path ahead is not mercy. It is initiation. They have come to escort you now. Across the black water. Toward the farther shore. Through fire. Through ice. Through every exquisite trial designed to separate the living from the truly awake. Lift your head. And walk. Because what waits for you beyond this passage is not comfort. It is transfiguration.