Sermon

Sometimes prayer is heard not in a church, but in headphones. Without candles, without a dome, without promises to ‘never do that again.’ Just a voice - tired, but still believing that light can be drawn even from complete darkness. There is no sermon in it - only quiet stubbornness: ‘take my pain, I will bear yours.’ It is like a confession between two people who have long since ceased to be afraid of being weak.

The music rises like a breath after a long silence. There are no perfect words here, but there is honesty, spilled in every beat, like wine that someone has finally decided to turn back into water. And that makes it easier - as if someone inside has finally allowed themselves to just be.