My life story 2

Love came like monsoon rains, fierce and pure,
A daughter’s first breath—a balm to the cure.
He vowed to be steady, to root like a tree,
But fate’s crooked finger whispered, "*Just wait and see.*"

Parliament’s crown gleamed, ambition’s sweet song,
Till sirens screamed wrong, oh God, *so wrong*.
A womb’s complication, a ledger’s red stain,
His world—once a fortress—now rubble and rain.

They said, "He’s broken. A ghost in his bed."
But pain’s a strange sculptor—it carves instead.
A twitch in his finger, a spark in the gloom—
Does the phoenix *remember* it’s born from the tomb?

leaving room for hope