The sun shines brightest and most fair, when storm clouds fade from darkest hue.I drown beneath life’s heavy weight, where whispers pierce like daggers true.
Shadows haunt the road I walk, scorched by tears of bitter fate. Sinking deeper ’neath the weight, reaching for a hand—ere it be too late.
Around the twisting path there stood, a figure brooding, dark yet still. An outstretched hand he offered me —as if to bend the fated will.
Alas, I shunned the offered hand —for faith in man was long since spilled. My broken trust, like glass beneath, compelled my soul to flee, not yield.
Oh, but gentle and kind was he, for patiently he stood, Imploring me to take the offered hand —with all the grace he could.
I reached a trembling hand to his, my gaze a silent, pleading cry,
Searching deep within his eyes —
to will him lead, or let me die.
He gently folded hand 'round mine,
and raised me from where I had been,
To walk beside me, step for step,
through shadows of this valley dim.
Though he showed no trace of fear,
with every step we took,
We found a solace deep and still,
no words could ever brook.
