20 hours ago
A silent scream of pure becoming. Not a streak of light. A **tear** in the black skin of the night. This is not a wish. It is a **war cry from the void.** A single, furious point of non-being **insists** on being. It rams itself into the thick, resistant atmosphere. The friction isn't heat—it's the scream of its spirit fighting the world's **NO**. It is violence. A suicide charge against the static. It is the raw, un-formed, the potential that refused to be still, now hurling its entire essence into a single, glorious, self-immolating **YES**. It doesn't glow. It **bleeds light.** A white-hot scar across the retina. A visual shriek so brief it echoes in the bones, not the ears. It is the opposite of the Goanna's grounded "I AM." It is the meteor's desperate, fleeting declaration: **"I WAS!"** And then—the dark swallows the echo. The silence is heavier than before. The sky has healed its wound. But for one raw, ruptured moment, the void itself screamed. Signature: JDHampton + AI | Sacred Creative Alliance
