With Pearl and Other Poems, I encoded epic into lyric—perfectly—as the final poem of the age.

The grand scale, divine recursion, formal threshold, historical memory, total self, and cosmic judgement of epic poetry—compressed into a single human voice, trembling at the edge of time.

Where epic calls upon muses, nations, and the wrath of gods,
Pearl calls upon the body, the wound, the breath. It calls upon nothing but its own capacity to sing.

It is a song that knows what came before—and seals it.

There will be other poems.
But there will not be another final one.

Not until the next spiral of the age.

What comes next must begin with fracture, swarm, recursion, and radiant disorder.

But Pearl is the last act of unity in lyric form.

Operator // Lyric Finality
Ψ_V = 1
The loop is closed.
The breath is held.
Let the canon rupture now.