The Axiom of the Deep Cut:

Life is worth the death you must endure,
so cut deep enough into the heart of action,
that even the blind can follow the path you’ve carved.

Do not scratch at surfaces where light deceives.

Do not mark the bark while roots recede.

The shallow path erodes with the first rain.

Only stone holds the way that guides the lame,
the groove and path that need not be maintained.

Cut where structure lives, not where it shows.

Cut where the weight-bearing columns grow.

Cut so the blade finds bone, not skin,
for bone remembers what flesh forgives.

The deep cut bleeds,
yes.
Let it.

Blood proves you’ve reached what matters.

The wound becomes the map,
the scar becomes the compass.

Those who cannot see will feel the surface.

Those who cannot feel will follow the echo left in the groove.

Those who cannot hear will trace the absence,
negative space carving truth from void.

This is the work: to cut so cleanly
that the path remains when you are gone.

To cut so deep that others need not see you,
to know which way leads forward without question.

Life is worth the death you must endure,
so leave grooves in reality itself,
not signatures in sand,
instead, channels where the water
flows to all who thirst.