Mantle Prayer

Strike a spark in the hollow black,

Hear the iron heart answer back.

Ash in my lungs, faultlines in my chest,

Cracked horizons, sleepless rest.

I light a wick beneath the stone,

Call the heat I used to own.

Pressure builds where silence fed,

Molten vows beneath the dread.

If there’s a world still left to raise,

Let the core become a blaze.

Kneel to the deep—steady my hands,

Teach me to breathe in broken lands.

This is my mantle prayer—ignite,

Turn my ruin into light.

From the fractures, forge a spine,

Make the buried fire mine.

Let the plates inside me shift,

Carry continents I lift.

When the night forgets my name,

Let the magma hold the flame.

Veins like rivers under glass,

Ancient thunder trapped in mass.

Every tremor writes a psalm,

Quakes that break, then fall to calm.

I won’t beg the sky to mend—

Stone and I will make an end.

Hammered heat and mineral grace,

Build a new and breathing place.

Kneel to the deep—steady my hands,

Shape me to stand on moving sands.

This is my mantle prayer—ignite,

Turn my ruin into light.

From the fractures, forge a spine,

Make the buried fire mine.

Let the plates inside me shift,

Carry continents I lift.

When the night forgets my name,

Let the magma hold the flame.

If I break—let it be birth,

Fault to mountain, wound to earth.

If I burn—let it refine,

Ore to will, and ash to sign.

Heat—rise—

Core—realign.

Beat—twice—

Stone—be mine.

This is my mantle prayer—ignite,

Pull the day from undernight.

From the fractures, forge a spine,

Trace a coastline on my mind.

Let the plates inside me shift,

Carry everything I lift.

When I’m nothing but a flame—

That’s the world I’ll dare to claim.