Lyrics

Silence has a way of making
every hidden room appear,
all the noise I called the outside
was already living here.

Citta moving like a current,
pulling names across the mind,
every thought arrives convincing,
every feeling asks for time.

I don’t have to follow.
I don’t have to fight.

Some things only need a witness
to stop becoming life.

Let it rise.
Let it leave.

Not every voice
is meant to lead.

In the space between the impulse
and the hand that wants to move,
there is something almost weightless,
something quieter than truth.

Not escape,
not surrender,
not a place I disappear.

Just the moment I stop reaching
and become the one who’s here.

Pratyahara in the turning,
not away but further in,
where the senses lose their hunger
to make meaning out of everything.

I used to fill the empty spaces,
used to answer every ache,
used to confuse the need for movement
with the need to make a change.

Now the stillness has a rhythm.
Now the pause has something to say.

Not in language.
Not in answers.

In the choice to let things stay.

Let it rise.
Let it leave.

Not every fear
deserves belief.

In the space between the impulse
and the hand that wants to move,
there is something almost weightless,
something quieter than truth.

Not escape,
not surrender,
not a place I disappear.

Just the moment I stop reaching
and become the one who’s here.

Sankalpa, softly planted,
somewhere deeper than desire.

Not a wish to be another.
Not another name for fire.

Just a sentence in the darkness
asking nothing but to grow.

No performance.
No becoming.

Only what I choose to know.

Antar mouna.
Inner silence.

Not the absence of the sound.

Just the courage not to follow
every thought that circles round.

In the space between the impulse
and the story I once knew,
there is room enough to witness
what is passing, what is true.

Not escape,
not surrender,
not a place I disappear.

Just the moment I stop reaching
and become the one who’s here.

Let it rise.
Let it leave.

Citta moves.
I stay.