In a world that once felt safe and sound, Now shadows creep where light was found. Truth bends and breaks, hearts ache and bleed, Trust is a fragile, fading seed.

Once, friends were chosen with ease and grace, Now masks hide lies on every face. Eyes that glimmer with warmth and cheer may harbor schemes or whispered fear.

We open doors, invite them in, But wolves wear wool and boast of kin. Promises spoken, then left to decay, Loyalties sold and hearts led astray.

Kindness, a currency too rare to spend, Deceit masquerades as a well-meaning friend. We guard our dreams, we shield our souls, Fearing the thorns beneath soft roles.

Who do we trust when light turns gray? When love’s embrace might lead us astray? The world’s grown strange, its soul misplaced, A jigsaw of hope and doubt interlaced.

But though shadows stretch and doubts take hold, We choose our circle with hearts turned bold. For not all souls bear the serpent’s charm— Some hands still hold with no intent of harm.

Fear is a whisper,

slick and sharp,

slithering through your mind,

saying “Stay small.”

But you?

You were built from fire,

forged in storms

that tried to drown you

but only taught you

how to breathe deeper.

Let doubt rattle—

you’ve danced with shadows before.

Let hesitation choke—

you’ve burned brighter than its dim flame.

Rise.

Even if your hands tremble,

even if your voice cracks—

Speak. Leap. Claim.

You are not made for cages,

for corners,

for shrinking to fit.

Your soul stretches

like roots through concrete,

like wings breaking free.

The sky isn’t a limit—

it’s an invitation.

So reach—

past what they said you couldn’t do,

past what fear says you shouldn’t try.

**She is the Dawn After the Storm**

She comes like the calm after thunder's roar, A gentle wave that kisses the shore,

When the world is broken, and hope is thin, She gathers the pieces, lets light in.

She is the dawn after a long, cold night, A flicker of warmth, the softest light, When shadows fall heavy, and hearts are torn, She whispers, "Be still, the day is born."

Her presence is rain after endless drought, A quiet reminder of what life's about. In the wreckage, she stands, serene and strong, She is the answer when all feels wrong.

They shift in color, blend with every shade, A chameleon in the crowd, unseen, Yet in the mirror, something starts to fade— A ghostly trace of who they might have been.

The masks they wear grow heavy, harder still, As days turn into nights of endless play, But with each act, they sacrifice their will, Their voice, their truth, slipping far away. In every eye, they seek a hint of grace,

A nod, a sign they’ve found where they belong, But all they find is their own empty face, The echoes of a self that’s long been gone.