In the Shadows, I Found the Flame

There was a weight I could not name,

A hollow echo, cold and tame.

Days blurred gray, nights stretched long,

I forgot the words to every song.

In silence, whispers filled my head,

Each one heavier than dread.

Walls closed in, the air grew tight,

I lost the will to seek the light.

But in that dark, so deep, so still,

I felt a spark against my will.

A flicker small, a soft refrain,

A quiet voice: “This isn’t vain.”

I learned to sit with shadow’s hand,

To trace the cracks, to understand.

The pain, it carved, it tore, it bled —

But planted seeds in all it shed.

I saw the stars not far above,

Hidden, waiting, patient love.

I learned that wounds can show the way,

That night must fall before the day.

The darkness taught me how to feel,

To break apart and slowly heal.

And from the void, I rose again,

Not who I was — but more than then.

The sorrow gave me softer eyes,

To see the hurt in others’ cries.

The pain became a sacred part,

A compass in my fragile heart.

So now I walk with night and light,

Both are teachers, both are right.

And when the shadows start to press,

I meet them now with tenderness.

For in the depths, I came alive,

I learned to fall — and then to rise.