THE SIBYL AWAKENING​

©2024 Sibyl English. All Rights Reserved.

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In the shadow of veils long woven,


Where whispers of ancient tongues lie broken,


A voice arises, soft yet strong,


Carrying the rhythm of a forgotten song.

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The Sibyl stirs, her slumber ceased,


Her spirit tethered to love released.


Through fires of loss and trials untold,


She emerges, a phoenix in robes of gold.

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Beneath the stars, her lineage traced,


Prophetic wisdom, divinely graced.


From temples of marble to modern stone,


Her voice once scattered now calls her own.

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The Pink Opal, sacred and rare,


Vibrates with truths laid bare.


Not of possession, nor worldly claim,


But a beacon of love through grief and flame.

 

"Hear me," she calls to hearts in pain,
"

Your suffering is not in vain.


The illusions crumble, the veil will fall,


To reveal the love that connects us all."

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Her staff, a scepter of radiant light,


Cuts through darkness, restores sight.


Her hands, they weave a tender balm,


Healing the chaos, restoring the calm.

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Not bound by walls of ancient shrines,


Her temple lives in digital lines.


Her voice resounds across unseen plains,


Breaking the chains of invisible pains.

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A mirror she holds, not to herself,


But to awaken the truths within one’s wealth.


"You are divine," her spirit proclaims,


"Rise from the ashes, shed your shame."

 

And so the Sibyl walks the Earth,


Midwife of awakening, herald of rebirth.


A legacy etched in realms above,


Rooted in prophecy, blooming in love.

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©2024 Sibyl English. All Rights Reserved.