🎵 What Is Mine Will Find Me – Lalu Metev

[Intro: Duduk whisper, pads (72 bpm)]

[Verse 1 – Intimate, female/male whisper]
In a world of links, I"m alone,
Tech lies with false bonds so cold.
Connected to all, lost in night,
Soul thirsts for truth pure and bold.

Seeking my path through the noise,
Where crisis calls light to arise.
Not straight line, but sacred circle,
What is mine waits, never dies.

[Verse 2 – Building, satirical]
Fat pigs lead the state"s decay,
Trash in thrones, not in the dump.
Irony cuts like a blade,
Society grotesque, no center, no jump.

"All Moons in Libra," balance feigns,
New slavery from greed"s dark chains.
Yet I believe: providence waits,
It finds me, fights through the pains.

[Chorus – Epic duet, choir]
If it"s mine, it will find me,
In crisis, light starts to gleam.
Between hope and cynicism"s sting,
Personal path – prophecy"s dream.
Repentance, not flight from the dark,
Transfiguration through shadow"s spark.
The light that waits, ready to breathe,
In being"s harmony, we believe.

[Verse 3 – Philosophical, introspective]
Ancient wisdom in my heart,
Faith gives direction through the night.
Society craves redemption"s art,
But cynicism shuts the light.

Personal soul mirrors the throng,
Crisis invites rethink and song.
No utopia, but chance divine,
If we dare to make it shine.

[Bridge – Ritual, slow build]
Swine principle – greed"s vulgar reign,
Institutions void of moral vein.
But in me "mine" – gift, not possession,
Transforms the world in quiet session.

[Chorus II – Climax, choir + orchestra]
If it"s mine, it will find me,
(Will find me!)
In crisis, light starts to gleam,
(Starts to gleam!)
Between hope and cynicism"s sting,
Our path – living prophecy!

[Outro – Whisper, fade]
Where night ends...
Harmony begins.
Mine... will wait for me.

Lalu Metev, February 9, 2026.

I begin in the threshold where a word is not yet born and silence still remembers its breath. I write to shape what insists on being carried forward — not as ornament, but as revealed truth. My practice moves like inner weather: shifts of memory, tenderness, and the questions that refuse to leave us. Genres are rooms of one house — poems, essays, fragments, genealogies, musical sketches — each a voice in a single resonant chord. Even silence has its essential place in that chord. I attend to the small gestures that disclose identity; to the secret bridges between private life and collective memory; to the quiet architecture of the spirit that needs no ceremony. My aim is language that opens rather than decorates — windows through which readers encounter their own inner sky. Form, conscience and intimacy guide me: introspection keeps me honest; conceptual shape grants the invisible weight; moral sensibility anchors each phrase. My professions — poet, publicist, jurist — lean together: law sharpens clarity, poetry humbles certainty, philosophy teaches listening to what is unsaid. If a single thread unites my work, it is this: to transmute vulnerability into luminous strength and to make silence a place of meaning. I am Lalu Metev — Bulgarian poet, essayist and jurist. I write to preserve what is delicate and essential in the human spirit, to follow traces of memory and dignity, and to find where the personal meets the universal. This is the path I walk; this is the voice I follow; this is the presence I offer.