The Same Soul, Burning

A weary soul reborn through countless lives confesses that faith, sin, and suffering are one endless cycle- learning not redemption, but how to burn beautifully and still call it love.

I have heard the stars and called them liars.

I have begged them to speak

and cursed them when they did.

Their silence taught me prophecy;

their noise, madness.

I was a mother to grief,

a lover to vengeance.

I carried a heart that burned so long

it mistook agony for prayer.

I have seen the future rot before it bloomed,

smelled the incense of decay,

and called it divine.

I've worn sight like a collar,

each vision dragging behind-

a penance I could never earn.

Once, I believed in holy purpose.

Now I know I was the offering.

Each lifetime, the same soul,

carved new, consecrated in failure.

They called me seer, sinner, saint,

but I was only smoke between their names.

The first sin was faith.

The next, forgiveness.

And I still wake beneath a different sky,

each one promising salvation

in a language I've already cursed.

I've loved in temples built of ash,

birthed gods from grief,

buries them in silence.

I've spoken to light

and learned it only answers in fire.

I've preached faith to others

to drown the sound of my own doubt.

I've been god-touched, star-marked,

and still-

I can't tell the difference between destiny and punishment.

I've loved and killed for light.

I've ruled and fallen for love.

I've begged for silence

and found divinity in the noise.

Once, I believed I was chosen.

Now I know I was only remembered.

Each lifetime, the same soul

given a different name to fail beneath.

Every lifetime ends the same-

me, standing in the ruins,

hands trembling with divine regret,

saying I have finally learned,

only to be born again.

Every rebirth begins with repentance:

this time I'll believe.

But I never do.

I only learn how to kneel more beautifully,

how to make ruin look holy,

how to burn, again, 

and call it worship.

Perhaps the lesson isn't redemption.

Perhaps its endurance-

to carry the same light

through a thousand burnings

and still call it love.

-Koii