In shadows cast by hearts that tire,
We walk on embers, stitched with fire,
Afraid the night will never cease,
Yet yearning still for dawn’s release.
The cracks within our skin reveal,
The truths we hide, yet cannot seal,
We fall as fools, yet rise as kings,
When sorrow carves us broken wings.
We doubt, and doubt becomes our chain,
Yet fear itself is forged from pain—
And pain can shape what was confined,
A freer soul, a braver mind.
Through storms that strip, we stand half-grown,
Learning the strength we thought unknown,
The irony—our fragile frame
Bears weight that pride could never claim.
For tragedy wears patient scars,
It teaches more than peaceful stars,
It bends us low, yet in that bend
We find the road that will not end.
And so, though faith may sometimes fade,
Though hope feels buried in the shade—
The broken heart still learns to swell,
For even shattered bones can tell:
That fractures are not signs of doom,
But openings where light finds room.
…
DCG
