The Echo of His Steps

 

In twilight’s haze, he walks a path alone,

With heavy heart and burdens deep as stone,

Each step a whisper of the dreams once bright,

Now shadowed visions fading into night.

The city hums, a cacophony of life,

Yet in its pulse, he feels the cutting knife,

The laughter rings, a distant, hollow sound,

While in his chest, a hollow ache is found.

Once vibrant eyes have dulled beneath the weight,

Of sorrows stacked like bricks, a heavy fate,

He wears a mask, a smile that doesn’t reach,

A silent scream that no one seems to breach.

He seeks the solace of a friendly face,

But finds instead the echoes of his place,

Where every glance reveals a hidden tale,

Of struggles borne, of hope that starts to pale.

Yet in the quiet moments, sparks ignite,

A flicker of the strength he’ll need to fight,

For deep within, a flicker still remains,

A stubborn flame that dances through the pains.

With every breath, he claims a piece of light,

Determined not to vanish into night,

Though darkness looms, he walks, his head held high,

For every fall, he learns to rise and fly.