L o r r i e
The Soul’s Compass
In a forgotten study, where dust and sunlight meet in a quiet dance, rests the memory of a man who never stood still.
His heart beat to the rhythm of the tides, and his thoughts carried sails.
Every instrument on his desk, a chapter, every scratch on the brass a decision. He didn’t just travel across seas, he traveled through spaces, through time, between worlds… and maybe even a little farther.
Between knowledge and wonder, between calculation and dream.
The compass, once held in storm and starlit night, no longer points north it points to where longing lives.
And the ship in the painting? Maybe it still sails, who really knows for sure...
Maybe no longer through towering waves,
and yet, still it sails through the stories,
of those who gaze upon it.
© 2025 Lorrie Agapi – All rights reserved.
**My heart, my words. Please respect them.**
Dear reader,
These words you are reading right now, whether it's a poem, a short story, or a thought is a piece of my soul. I write with passion, each word flowing from my heart, deeply connected to me. My writings are not just words; they are alive, carrying my emotions and essence within them. are not just words they are alive, carrying my emotions and essence within them.
If you plan to take them without my permission, know this: you are also taking a piece of my soul. And with every stolen word, I will always be present within the lines you use.
So be mindful… You never know what lies hidden between the lines, for words hold a power that goes far beyond the visible.💫
The Soul’s Compass
In a forgotten study, where dust and sunlight meet in a quiet dance, rests the memory of a man who never stood still.
His heart beat to the rhythm of the tides, and his thoughts carried sails.
Every instrument on his desk, a chapter, every scratch on the brass a decision. He didn’t just travel across seas, he traveled through spaces, through time, between worlds… and maybe even a little farther.
Between knowledge and wonder, between calculation and dream.
The compass, once held in storm and starlit night, no longer points north it points to where longing lives.
And the ship in the painting? Maybe it still sails, who really knows for sure...
Maybe no longer through towering waves,
and yet, still it sails through the stories,
of those who gaze upon it.
© 2025 Lorrie Agapi – All rights reserved.
**My heart, my words. Please respect them.**
Dear reader,
These words you are reading right now, whether it's a poem, a short story, or a thought is a piece of my soul. I write with passion, each word flowing from my heart, deeply connected to me. My writings are not just words; they are alive, carrying my emotions and essence within them. are not just words they are alive, carrying my emotions and essence within them.
If you plan to take them without my permission, know this: you are also taking a piece of my soul. And with every stolen word, I will always be present within the lines you use.
So be mindful… You never know what lies hidden between the lines, for words hold a power that goes far beyond the visible.💫