The Rise
The boy who carried night within his chest
Once believed the road had reached its final bend,
Convinced that silence was his only friend,
And traded all his tomorrow for unrest.
He could not see the dawn through heavy skies,
Nor count the hours that waited to unfold,
Lost in a tale he thought was fully told,
Watching the shadow grow before his eyes.
Yet morning broke the perimeter of shade;
The quiet road stretched out and did not fall.
He learned the weight of years can shift and mend,
That every solitary ghost must fade.
Standing in light he never thought to call,
He sees the start where once he feared the end.
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