I thought the world had found its tune,
A quiet calm beneath the moon.
Peace in my grasp, control in my hand,
No storm could shake where I now stand.
But then—without a warning cry,
A blow struck deep, I can’t deny.
It found the fault I tried to hide,
The weakest point I hold inside.
How did they know?
Why did they dare To pierce the place I laid so bare?
Is this the echo of my past,
Or proof that joy will never last?
You hurled me from my sacred space,
No worry now could take your place.
Yet even pain, like winds that roar,
Must drift away, and be no more.
So let this cloud dissolve and fade,
I’ll rise again, though bruised and swayed.
For nothing stays—not grief, not bliss—
And I am more than all of this.
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