the light was not kind.
it pierced.
it revealed.
her eyes burned,
her heart cracked open.
she wanted to run back
to the comfort of shadows,
to the hum of belonging.
but something sacred
had already shifted —
a truth that could not
be unseen.
she saw faces she loved,
still watching the wall.
her tears were prayers,
soft and wordless.
she reached out,
but her voice trembled —
not from fear,
but from knowing
that truth cannot be forced,
only lived.
so she walked on,
barefoot on stone,
carrying both grief and grace,
light flickering in her palms.
the air was cold,
the path unknown,
yet she whispered —
i am still here.
i will not turn away.
© 2025 Corvalya