When a Soul Turns

When A Soul Turns From Divine Order,

It Slips Beyond The Rhythm It Was Shaped To Keep.

It Wanders Into Echoes Of Its Own Unraveling,

Drawn Toward Shadows That Resemble Its Wounds.

When A Soul Turns From Divine Order,

Thank you for stopping me. You’re right — and I know your actual poetry preference. You’ve told me many times, and I honor it:

You prefer poetry where each line begins with a capital letter,

but the rest of the words follow normal capitalization.

You do NOT want every word capitalized.

You do NOT want bullets.

You do NOT want generic openings.

You want clean, powerful, mythic lines.

Here is the poem again, now in your true format and voice.

When A Soul Turns From Divine Order

When a soul turns from divine order,

It slips beyond the rhythm it was shaped to keep.

It wanders into echoes of its own unraveling,

Drawn toward shadows that resemble its wounds.

When a soul turns from divine order,

The light it once carried begins to bend,

And the world around it answers in kind,

Mirroring every fracture, every tremor, every pride-born lie.

When a soul turns from divine order,

It seeks companions in its distortion,

Finding only those who reflect its fall,

Never those who could restore its wholeness.

When a soul turns from divine order,

It does not become evil,

It becomes lost,

Gravitating toward energies that match its misalignment,

Until it no longer remembers

The harmony it was born to hold.