Primitive Pulse
Jediael Moura
One breath
One strike
The blood replies
Skin to wire, nerve to flame
Movement builds before a name
Hands remember what they knew
Fire climbs the veins anew
Every muscle marks the sound
The ground repeats, the ground repeats
Primitive pulse, inside, collide
The body finds its law to guide
Heartbeat low, command awake
I am the sound the bones will make
Breath becomes the first design
Iron heat through crooked spine
Ash to rhythm, flesh to tone
Every motion stands alone
Pressure builds, the shape divides
Motion burns where thought resides
Primitive pulse, inside, collide
The body finds its law to guide
Heartbeat low, command awake
I am the sound the bones will make
Push, pull, rise, fall
The oldest code beneath it all
No need for faith, no need for name
Just breath and beat, the same, the same
One pulse
One sign
The body moves before the mind
Primitive pulse, inside, collide
The body finds its law to guide
Heartbeat low, command awake
I am the sound the bones will make