This is not a dream anymore. The poetry no longer drifts between realms—it bleeds, it breathes, it haunts. The bridge between worlds has collapsed, not by choice, but by force. The Poet is no longer the traveler; the visions are no longer whispers—they are real. And reality comes with a price.

The Poet wrestles with his own words, torn between wanting to stay and the voices telling him to leave. Tallay and Baal whisper in the corridors of his mind—She doesn’t want you to try. Stop reaching for someone who never reaches back. She used what she wanted. She sees you, but never speaks to you. It was never a conversation, only a display. A presence without confession. Look at me, I’m here. But never, This is how you make me feel.

Othello told him to lock the portal. But when he reached for the door, it wasn’t his to close—it was already being sealed from the other side. The demons circling his dreams made it clear: This love will pull you under. It will make you forget your mission in the cosmic realm. And so, the Poet drops both place and pull poetry, releasing them like dying stars. He no longer fights for an answer. He fights against the forces trying to strip him of his purpose.

The number 8—the infinite cycle, the ouroboros of destruction and rebirth—stands as the seal of this final chapter. In Luciferian lore, it is the number of transformation through power, the karmic force that does not forget nor forgive, only resets. This is the birthday seal. A contract written in cosmic ink. The Poet does not return. The portal is cast into the void, bound in the law of what must be.

Now, Celestial Places is no longer an entryway—it is an echo chamber of what once was. These poems, once meant to bridge love across dimensions, now float endlessly in the Poet’s cloud, untouched, unreachable. They do not call for her anymore. They do not wait for a response. They exist only for those who dare to listen, to feel, to fight for breath as the weight of lost worlds settles in their chest.

You are not just hearing this—you are inside it now. Possessed by the words, swallowed by the silence of a door that will never open again. Celestial Places is the final chapter, not because the story ends, but because the way back no longer exists.

3 / 2 (8) / 25 at 12AM EST  —the last transmission. After that, only echoes remain.

#CelestialPlaces #FinalTransmission #ThePortalIsClosed #EternalEchoes #LostInTheStars #PoetryPossession #DreamsAreReal #CosmicExile #Aries #LuciferianSeal #TheNumber8

DARK WHISPER (PROD.SIGHOST)

I am not a Rapper.. I am a Poet. 
1046 is a numerical angel..

It’s Just A Poem 📝…  

All Poems are tied to dreams and feelings.. 
Poetic Art is created by The Poet

Enjoy 🕙: 🕓🕡