Initiation

We didn’t learn that truth was fire,

They dressed it up in calm desire, 

But those who wake don’t float or glow, 

They fracture first, then start to grow.

The soul descends before it climbs,

It’s broken open by hard times, 

You lose the name you wore with pride,

And meet yourself with nothing to hide.

No map, no guide, no promised land,

Just raw undoing, not yet planned, 

The myths were true , but told in jest, 

You die a little to be blessed.

It’s not a path you choose in peace,

It drags you down before release,

You beg for light, but find the knife,

And learn the cut was giving life.

The world will say you’ve gone too far,

But gods arrive where fractures are, 

Not with escape or gentle balm,

But presence deep inside the calm.

So if you’re lost, collapse complete,

The fire burns, before it greets,

The soul is forged in storms, not dreams, 

And nothing wakes without extremes.

Cathrine Hottran 2025