I stretch my hand toward the glow,
Not because I’m there yet—
But because I believe
Light is meant to be reached.
Even small steps forward
Can lead out of the dark.
I stretch my hand toward the glow,
Not because I’m there yet—
But because I believe
Light is meant to be reached.
Even small steps forward
Can lead out of the dark.
Benedict, the bound jester,
Laughing in a world of chains,
Painted smiles, velvet nightmares,
Dancing just to hide the pain.
Bells are ringing, crowds are cheering,
But he hears a different sound,
Rain, a thing often described as “sad” but think about it.
Is rain really sad? It feeds crops, cleans the earth? Does that sound sad?
Think of it as sad, but if you look, like really look.
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