The moment cuts clean
A bright blade
Through the old noise
Two hands lock
And the world snaps
Into a harder focus
Edges crisp
Colors louder
No drifting now
The ground grips back
Steady as a vow
Spoken without shaking
Love stops running
Turns
Faces me
Eyes sharp enough
To change my name
This is the door
That doesn’t creak
Doesn’t hesitate
It swings open
Like it knew
I was coming
Finally married
A strike of flint
A new fire
A clean start
That burns true
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Author:
Anthony Hanible (
Offline) - Published: September 10th, 2026 03:55
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 1
- Users favorite of this poem: Anthony Hanible
Offline)
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