Reflection
This poem grew out of my own struggle with the ego — its lies, its disguises, its hunger for control.
I’ve learned that when the ego falls silent, wisdom rises. In that stillness, love takes flight, and the garden of the soul begins to bloom.
And in time, I saw that even this was holy — the ego’s grasping, its fear, its shadowed need to protect. It was love, distorted by pain, still trying to keep the heart safe until it could remember its own light.
When that truth dawned, compassion entered, and the soul could finally breathe free.
— a reflection by Corvalya
Return to The Ego.
Notice what shifts.