Blue lights trembling in frozen pine,

Gold breath hiding between the needles.

The world is quiet—

Not peaceful…

Just waiting.

Snow listens better than people do.

It holds secrets without breaking them,

Covers the sharp things,

Pretends nothing ever hurt.

Somewhere, footsteps are missing.

Somewhere, a name is unsaid.

Somewhere, a brother is fighting the dark

So the light can stay small and real.

And still—

One tiny warmth refuses to go out.

Not loud.

Not proud.

Just alive.

Hope doesn’t shout.

It flickers.

And waits.