The Language Of Shadows
Yet where there were curses , you will find scars, Where I found my secrets, you will see my quiet lies. What pain hides, it also still shows, Its fact hoed through ruined trails, it snares.
In shadowed dark, a fire still gleams, An ember bright that even pain redeems. The knives that gut are mirrors, clothed in mourning, Reflecting strength once buried beyond understanding.
We learn to draw a sharp edge by hand, To forge a shield of what one cannot stand. For shadows whisper stories, dark but bright, Of powers found where light is scarce and slight.
Behind the door, the soul finds light turn up, In shadows' tales, it learns to rise for us. The night is long, through wounds won, a future breathes, Where time’s embrace, in life, lays true to its sheathe.
From hushed hallways where voices of shadows call, A symphony of victory rings with thrall. The heart that braved each bitter eclipse. Now throws its dreams on dawn’s gentle lips.
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