Frozen beside the loom of life, he stands,
With heavy heart and trembling hands.
Mother, he pleads, through shadows grey,
The truth is bitter; I cannot stay.
Like a fallen sun in a cold, stark night,
He steps away from the fading light.
He walks a path of daily grief,
Where simple days bring no relief.
To heal his scars and find his way,
He throws his hopes into the bay—
A quiet gamble, fierce and deep,
To save a soul he could not keep.
With careful steps and steady grace,
He shows a brave and quiet face.
He pushes forward against the wind,
To break the traps he lives within.
For down below in dusty lanes,
The forgotten people count their pains.
While far away, the roses bloom,
Outside the reach of shadow’s gloom.
Yet still they hold a fragile pride,
With gallant hearts that beat inside.
Beneath a vast and silent sky,
They live, and hope, and wonder why.
