I am the shadow that walks alone, the whispered voice I’ve never shown. A mirror cracked, a fractured name,
A quiet pulse of fear and flame.
I hold the weight of roads not taken, of words unspoken, hearts forsaken.
Each thought a flame that dies, then burns, a restless tide that turns and turns.
I trace the edges of who I am, a shifting shape, a fleeting sham.
Yet in the hollow, I feel the spark, a trembling light against the dark.
The self is pain, the self is fire, a broken song, a fierce desire.
It claws, it heals, it bends, it fights, it gathers stars from endless nights.
And when the silence claims its due, I find myself both lost and true.
A fragile world inside my chest, where grief and love make peace and rest.
