Ashes and Embers

The voice that shaped my childhood spoke in fire,

Each word a brand that seared where trust should grow.

I learned to hide beneath the thinnest wire,

A maze of silence where no warmth could show.

Yet from that dark I carved a gentler flame,

An ember held within my children’s gaze.

Their laughter shatters echoes laced with shame,

And turns the ash of grief to golden haze.

The past still prowls—its shadow bends the door,

But love stands taller, holding watch at night.

I chose to break the chain, to guard them more,

And stitch the broken pieces into light.

The shadow made me, but it will not reign;

I carry both—yet only love remains.