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She Longs To Be Free

She paints a life in soft-spun gold,   A dream where love won’t lose its hold.   She speaks of mornings, hand in hand,   Of simple joys, a life well-planned.   She whispers of a quiet home,   Of love that never needs to roam.   She swears that all she wants is me,   But I can see—she longs to be free.   Her eyes drift past the life she draws,   A longing laced between her pause.   She craves the world beyond our door,   Yet tells herself she wants no more.   No walls can hold a restless heart,   No love can make her torn soul part.   She wants this life—she swears it's true,   But deep inside, she’s passing through.
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Losses

Through the shadows of loss, we tread,
Where tears are shed, where dreams have fled.
Yet in the silence, lessons bloom,
From broken hearts, new strength consumes.

Each fall, each stumble, each goodbye,
Becomes a whisper, a reason why.
For in the pain, the truth is found,
That from the depths, we’re truly crowned.

Loss may leave its mark and scar,
But it will guide us, near and far.
For growth is born where we endure,
In the empty spaces, we become pure.

So let the losses come and go,
For in their wake, we learn to grow.
The stepping stones that seem so small,
Will lift us up when we stand tall.


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