The Welder Within

In alleys of silence, I walked alone, Where sparks of steel on stone were thrown. A boy of fire, with hands like flame, Crafted the world, yet knew no fame. The others watched with silent awe, At skill so pure it broke all law— Not law of man, but time and fate, He welded truth through heaven’s gate. I saw myself in that young gaze, A mirror forged in molten blaze. His gift was mine, just hid in ash, Waiting to rise with thunder's crash. Later I sat with kin in light, He spoke of fame, of joy, of flight. He soared on words, on digital wings, A prince of minds, a soul that sings. And something stirred within my chest, A voice long buried, now confessed: "Your gift is not to guard, but give. To speak. To shine. To feel. To live."