WHAT IT MEANS TO BE

In shadows deep, where silent dreams are born,

The searing truth of time cuts like a knife.

Within the mirror's gaze, my spirit torn,

Reflects a life besieged by inner strife.

The laughter, once a melody so bright,

Now echoes hollow in the heart's vast halls.

Each day a struggle, fading into night,

Where dreams of glory crumble and then fall

Yet in this realm where hopes are dashed and spun,

A truth emerges, clear as morning's dew:

That battles fought are not so easily won,

And what's reflected is both old and new.

In life's great tapestry, each thread entwines,

To weave the tale of what it means to Be.