"Light on the Wire"

He built his life on silence and stone, Walls of habit, years alone. Hands that fixed what time had worn, Forgot what gentle hearts are for. Then someone came like morning rain, Washing dust from the windowpane. They’re the light on the wire, the spark in the cold, The voice that reminds him he’s still whole. Through the quiet, through the scars, They found the man beneath the guard. They never asked for him to change, Just sat beside his unspoken pain. Every smile, every touch, Taught him that love doesn’t rush. Now the house hums with a softer tone, Two hearts steady where one once stood alone. He learns again, with every day, That healing listens more than it says. They’re the light on the wire, his steady flame, Proof that warmth can rise from rain. In their hands, the past unwinds, Love reborn in borrowed time. The storm still whispers, but it fades away, And he finally lets the morning stay.