the weight of the world
rests heavy on me;
in silence,
i carry what none can see.
rivers of pain
flow through my veins,
endlessly searching,
but always in vain.
how do you heal
when your power feels weak?
when shadows of sorrow
are all that you seek?
my heart bears its scars
as i step through the abyss,
only to find —
none of this exists.
a flicker of light
glows somewhere near,
a whisper reminding
that someone still hears.
it’s okay to grieve,
to stumble,
to fall —
within you,
true power
still answers the call.
never let fear
be the hand that steers,
even in darkness,
the stars draw near.
breathe in the night,
let it call out your name —
you are not broken,
nor meant to be tamed.
rise with the dawn —
let light cut through pain;
your voice is a beacon,
your truth will remain.
the weight of the world
may rest upon thee,
but so does your fire —
the key to being free.
© 2025 Corvalya
Reflection
This poem was born in a season when everything felt unbearably heavy — when grief, division, and exhaustion pressed against the soul of the world. But even then, the whisper persisted: “Within you, true power still answers the call.”
That whisper is the voice of living faith — the same current that moved through Gandhi’s satyagraha, King’s dream, and the quiet defiance of Jesus’ forgiveness.
It is not faith in dogma, but love itself — the living pulse that refuses to yield to fear.
I invite you to read the poem again.