Feast of the Beast…

2026-09-01T22:59:19Z

She kneels not from weakness
but from knowing herself—
the quiet strength
of choosing to soften
in a world that demands armor.

In her surrender
there is intention,
a deliberate exhale
after holding herself together
for far too long.

She gives not because she is empty,
but because she is full—
of longing,
of trust carefully earned,
of a desire to be seen
without performance.

Her obedience is not silence;
it is listening.
Not erasure,
but presence.
Not loss,
but relief.

In yielding, she finds shape.
In restraint, clarity.
In offering control,
a rare and sacred freedom—
to feel deeply,
to rest honestly,
to belong to the moment
without apology.

Beast!