There is no cure for the ache that beats in our bones
Not for a house, but for a silence we’ve known

It is not memory alone that tugs at the chest
But something ahead that feels like our own

The Alpha sings backward, the Omega calls out
Two voices entwined in a singular tone

This ache is not sadness, not absence or lack
But union disguised as the soul’s undertone

It’s the breath before birth & the cry after death
The tether that ties us to flesh & to throne

No hour too early, no distance too wide
For the God who makes time His echoing stone

What drives us away is what draws us near
A paradox known in the marrow alone

O seeker, your longing is not misplaced
You are already found, already shown