The Road That Never Ends, but Must
Where grief runs to the sea
The rich fragrance of life, with its hum,
so fruitful, it intoxicates death.
Beyond the hold, decay ceases.
For the infinite variety,
beneath the heaven matches onto the stars.
Steel thy reverence against the immortal doom.
Soften thy heart to the fleeting spark.
For the midnight comes only when sorrow drowns.
Yet, fear not the shadow, for the divine light is hopeful,
swallowed not by the midnight stream.
Feel the silence that rides on dawn’s pale breath,
a trembling hush that tempts color from the gray.
Where the sky blushes,
hope threads gold through every cloud.
And grief, once iron-clad,
reddens, melts, and runs harmless to the sea.
Here, the heart remembers its forgotten music.
Then rise, soul-pilgrim,
walk the road that never ends, but must.
Carry the ash of wonder past the gate of night.
Brand the dark with dawn,
let it rebel against oblivion.
For even eternity softens when we dare to sing it awake.
About the Creator
William Saint Val
I write about anything that interests me, and I hope whatever I write will be of interest to you too.



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