"My spirit will rise"

 

Questions unanswered bringing a haunting refrain,

life’s twists and turns, in a shadowed terrain.

 

In the dark void like mushrooms they grow,

a garden of doubt where no light can flow.

Fear takes its throne in my minds broken domain,

fractured, shattered, with whispers of pain.

 

As darkness embraces its arms cold and wide,

I’m lost in a maze, confused, no guide to find inside.

Questions unanswered that are revealing and severe,

I try to use my heart to steady and silence the fear.

 

Shards of my past pierce my spirit with mortal pain,

calloused and bruised, not even a small pulse of shame.

The echo of laughter now so distant and faint,

smeared on life’s canvas, like cracked peeling paint.

 

A mosaic of scars where my strength had begun,

shattered glass reflecting the noonday sun.

Dreams of my youth, a flicker of hope dares to return,

I have found that even in darkness, courage can burn.

 

I yearn for the truth, tired of living with fear and lies,

and out of the ashes and scars…my spirit will rise.

 

-Peter