Finding Light, Returning Dawn.

Fading Light, Returning Dawn

Days dim like the sun’s last breath—
gold unravels, warmth withdraws.
Once, the heart pulsed with summer’s hymn;
now shadows weave their silent shroud.

Horizons blur, the road dissolves,
truth’s flame smothered in ash and mist.
You are splintered timber, unstrung,
a throat stripped of psalm,
roots gnawed bare,
where earth once clasped you, fist to wrist.

Silence thickens—dense, unseen,
autumn sighs crisp and lean.
The nafs croons its venomous tune,
spidersilk lies eclipse the moon.
Fevered, you chase a hollow blaze,
forfeit your name,
erase your face,
a ghost in dust, veiled from grace.

Barren. Soil chokes on frost and thorn;
heedlessness reaps what faith has mourned.
The wind howls sermons in forgotten tongues,
shreds of longing on its breath.
The soul lies fallow, a frozen field,
grief pressing deep, heavy as death.

Yet night cradles a vow unbroken:
even stone cracks
when light has woken.
Stillness listens; the pulse revives,
an echo stirs beneath closed eyes.

Rip the briars, let sorrow till—
sow your tears where rivers spill.
Dawn seeps through each wound and scar,
a slow rebirth, a rising star.
Roots remember where they thirst;
the seed still dreams beneath the curse.

The road stirs—step by step,
the heart unearths what the mind forgets.
Through jagged dark, through fractured song,
the soul hums where it belongs.

Light unspools in silent streams,
soft as breath, strong as beams.
Joy’s ember glows beneath the frost—
in turning inward, the self is crossed.

And when the dawn unfurls its hymn,
a sunlit whisper calls you in.

—MyKoul