Rising Through Shadows

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In the quiet aftermath of night,

I hear a whisper, sharp and bright-

A voice that shakes my shadowed core,

Telling me I am more, much more.


Why do I feel this shadow cast,

A weight that lingers, slow and vast?

The weight I carry, heavy, deep,

Holds the wounds that refuse to sleep.


Each crack a story, each scar a flame,

Marking battles that I cannot name.

The shadow speaks of what I’ve lost,

Of lessons learned, no matter the cost.


Why do I stumble, break, and fall,

As if life’s weight is all I recall?

But stumbling is a brutal grace-

Each fall a chance to claim my space.


My reflection may seem strange, unknown,

Yet in its gaze, my truth is shown:

Of battles fought, of fears undone,

Of rising, bleeding, chasing the sun.


Am I enough? I ask once more-

Not perfect, but alive, and soar.

Doubt may whisper, but can’t define

The quiet brilliance that is yours and mine.


Yes, darkness claws and grips so tight,

Yet dawn awaits beyond the night.

A promise carried on the breeze-

That pain can teach, and wounds can ease.


So let the fractures be my crown,

A map of where I’ve been and now.

From ashes of despair, I rise and burn,

A spirit reborn, with fire to return.


I am not merely shadow’s end-

I am the blaze, the will to mend.

In every scar, a key I find,

Unlocking strength, my soul refined.


Through every question, every fall,

Through every fear that tried to stall,

I rise, I stand, I choose to be-

Whole, alive, and finally free.



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