The Life Within
4 spiritual poems
The Star Within
Man is his own star, a burning light,
A beacon cast against the night.
No fate may twist, no chance delay,
The course his steadfast soul shall lay.
He walks alone, yet never strays,
For truth illumes his winding ways.
No borrowed flame, no fleeting spark,
Can outshine what glows within the dark.
A soul untethered, firm and free,
Unbent by fear, unchained by plea,
Commands the light, commands the tide,
And draws the heavens to his side.
The honest heart, the perfect will,
Moves time itself, both swift and still.
No step is lost, no path in vain,
For all returns to him again.
Our acts, our angels, rise or fall,
The echoes of our deeds recall.
They walk beside us, shade or shine,
And bear the fruits of our design.
If kindness reigns within the breast,
Then peace shall follow, love shall rest.
If cruelty and falsehood breed,
Their bitter thorns are ours to heed.
No whisper fades, no word decays,
Each action carves eternal ways.
The fate we fear, the fate we weave,
Is but the law that we believe.
Not chance nor luck nor gods decree,
But what we give returns to be.
The hand that builds, the voice that sings,
Shapes not the earth, but what it brings.
If justice guides the heart within,
No storm shall shake, no loss shall win.
If courage speaks and virtue stands,
Then stars may rest in mortal hands.
The stars above, they shine and wane,
Yet man’s own star shall long remain.
No flame may die, no light may cease,
That burns with honor, truth, and peace.
And though the years may bend the frame,
May steal the breath, may dim the name,
The fire within shall brighter glow,
A seed of light in time’s own flow.
For man is his own guiding star,
No distance dims, no veils can bar.
And those who walk in truth and grace,
Shall ever light the endless space.
The Light That Walks Within
Man is his own star, his guiding flame,
A sovereign force, none else to blame.
No fate compels, no heavens bind,
But what he makes within the mind.
No hand unseen directs his way,
No distant gods decree the day.
What fortune grants, what trials rise,
Are shaped by truth or veiled in lies.
The soul that seeks, the heart that dares,
Commands the world, unchained from cares.
No hour too soon, no step too late,
For time bends not, but walks his gait.
He moves as dawn upon the land,
A sculptor’s touch, a builder’s hand.
Each act he weaves, each word he sows,
Shall rise again where silence grows.
His deeds, like angels, light or ill,
Walk by his side, abiding still.
Not shadows cast, nor fleeting breath,
But echoes calling forth from death.
If love is spoken, love shall last,
If hatred rises, hate holds fast.
The seed he plants, in joy or strife,
Becomes the root that shapes his life.
No cry is lost, no whisper fades,
Each gesture carves eternal ways.
The fate he fears, the fate he makes,
Is but the path his own heart takes.
Not chance, nor luck, nor fortune’s sway,
But what he gives returns to stay.
The builder’s hand, the singer’s voice,
Shapes not just earth, but future’s choice.
To stand in truth, to walk in grace,
Is not to flee from time or place.
But rather know the light within,
Is where all journeys must begin.
The stars above, they wax and wane,
Their silver arcs may rise or drain.
But man’s own star, though dimmed by pain,
Shall burn, unbroken, bright, and plain.
Though years may bend, though time may steal,
Though silence press and loss reveal,
The fire within shall brighter glow,
A seed of light in time’s own flow.
For man is his own guiding star,
No distance dims, no veils may bar.
And those who walk in truth and might,
Shall bear the torch, shall be the light.
Thus step by step, thus day by day,
He carves his path, he makes his way.
And though the night may press him deep,
His light remains, it does not sleep.
No fate may twist, no chance delay,
The course his steadfast soul shall lay.
No borrowed flame, no fleeting spark,
Can outshine what glows within the dark.
And when he stands at journey’s end,
No gods shall judge, no stars descend.
But he shall see, in shadow cast,
His acts, his truth—his fate at last.
Forged by Storm and Stone
Cast the bantling on the rocks,
Let the winds shape flesh and bone.
Cold and hunger, bite and shock,
Steel the child to stand alone.
Suckle him with the she-wolf's teat,
Let no cradle make him weak.
Let him learn with fang and fleet,
How the silent hunters speak.
Wintered with the hawk and fox,
Bound to ice and biting air.
Frost that seals, yet never locks,
He will rise, unbowed and rare.
Power and speed be hands and feet,
Not the chains of gold and ease.
He shall run where mountains meet,
Swift upon the frozen breeze.
No soft voice shall call him son,
No warm hand shall ease his way.
Yet the storm shall forge him one
Who will claim the coming day.
By the river, dark and wide,
Through the valley, bleak and deep,
He shall walk where shadows hide,
Where the silent watchers keep.
Night shall whisper, stars shall weep,
Yet his step shall never slow.
Through the tempest, rough and steep,
He shall go where few may go.
Fed by silence, taught by storm,
Shaped by hunger, raised by fight,
Flesh to stone and blood to form,
Born to darkness, bound to light.
Blades may glisten, arrows fly,
Walls may tower, gates may stand,
Yet the one who walks the sky
Bows to neither king nor land.
Let the thunder carve his name,
Let the river tell his tale.
Time shall falter, none shall tame
Him whose will shall never pale.
Eagle-born and mountain-bred,
Bound to fire, frost, and fate.
By the wild, by hunger led,
He shall stand, inviolate.
Crown nor kingdom, wealth nor ring,
Hold no power, set no claim.
He shall hear the storm-wind sing,
Calling forth his nameless name.
Steel in sinew, fire in breath,
Born to trial, raised to fight.
He shall stand beyond his death,
Burning still—a star in night.
Seek Not Beyond Yourself
Seek not beyond yourself, nor stray
Where lesser hearts may lose their way.
No voice, no hand, no guiding star
Can shape the soul for what you are.
Within you burns a hidden light,
A flame that turns the dark to bright.
No borrowed wisdom, no man's grace,
Shall carve your path or set your pace.
The river bends, the mountains rise,
The heavens wheel in endless skies.
Yet in your heart, the compass true,
Shall point to all you are and do.
No law of man, no fortune's call,
Can make you less, can make you fall.
For in your hands, through toil and strife,
You hold the key, the spark, the life.
Seek not beyond—look deep, look wide,
And let no fear your steps divide.
For he who walks his path alone
Shall find himself, and find his throne.