The Hand I Cannot Let Go

In the stillness of the darkest night,

I drift alone, bereft of light.

But there’s a hand that holds me near,

steady, calm, and always clear.

It keeps me grounded when I fall,

a silent strength amidst it all.

A gentle touch, a quiet plea,

to pull me back and set me free.

At times, I wonder, Is it real?

A fleeting thought, a thread to feel.

Yet when the storms rage, wild and fast,

this hand is there—it holds me fast.

Perhaps it’s born of who I am,

my courage, my hope, my inner flame.

A solemn vow, so soft, so true:

"I’ll never let go—I’m here for you."

And so I cling with all my might,

this hand that steadies, pure and bright.

Through shadows deep and battles grim,

it guides me to the light within.