Hush.
Breathe.
Soft light
seeks the cracks,
where shadows once clung—
grief echoing through silent halls.
Still, roots remember rain, even when the sky forgets to fall.
Hope
waits,
gentle,
not rushed through.
Each scar speaks of strength,
a language pain can’t overwrite.
You rise—not as before, but brighter, broken open wide.

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