Verse 1 You wake to light that cuts, not heals. The shutters carve the hollow air. You breathe through prayers too weak to bear, pretending silence still reveals. You buried honest words, afraid, their truth too fierce for tender bone. They rose from quiet, not your own, a fire that burns but makes you brave. --- Verse 2 The glass recalls each stolen spark, your spirit bent, yet somehow bright. The lost thing flickers into light and sighs alive inside the dark. You trace forgiveness on the pane, the breath dissolves, becomes your face. A soul looks back without disguise— where beauty hides inside the pain. --- Verse 3 Life in pieces, still you stray, searching rhythm through the ache. Each fracture hums, each promise breaks and pulls the night a step away. You call it mercy, call it cost; the body bends, the ink redeems. The wreckage hums through sleepless dreams, a map of all you’ve nearly lost. --- Verse 4 You murmur songs you left unheard, a pulse uneven, raw, alive. The soul remembers how to drive its meaning through the blurred absurd. You silenced truth, but now it breaks through quiet thread and trembling lines. The self dissolves through old designs— and turns from fear to grace.
