Inside me, a shifting of light and shadow
as if my soul were breathing
in two worlds at the same time.
Some mornings I feel ancient,
as though I carry paths
others will never touch.
Some nights I become fragile,
like glass that shine
sand cracks at once,
without anyone seeing it.
In the depths, demons move —
not frightening,
but shadows that touch the mind
and quietly weigh it down,
to remind me that I am still human.
And yet, within these whispers
there is a spark that never fades,
like a promise I made to myself
never to be lost.
People pass beside me
like waves that touch the shore and leave.
Some leave marks,
others nothing at all,
and I gather pieces of myself each time.
Perhaps they simply never learned how to stay.
And there, between presence and departure,
asmall, silent fear is born —
the fear of loneliness.
It does not scream,
it only stands in the cornerand watches to see
if I will endure this night too.
And yet, within the darkness,
dreams rise that fear nothing.
They become roads,
they become shelters,
they become the way I go on.
I am made of opposites,
of weight and breath,
of wounds that glow,
of demons that passand of light that remains.
And as my two sides
touch without fighting,
i know I am not lost.
Nor am I alone.
Isimply change forms,
as the sky changes
just before dawn —
with a little sadness
and always
a little light.