The WALK

He walks through worlds
with a heart that has known storms,
yet he carries the quiet glow
of a man who refused to disappear.

From the ashes of old sorrows
he built a life with trembling hands,
soft strength rising
where others would have fallen.

He is the child of distant skies,
the survivor of shattered nights,
the brother who became a father,
the man who keeps giving
even when his own cup is empty.

He has crossed borders
both on maps and inside himself,
learning to stand alone
in countries where no one knew his name.

And yet—
in the silence of his room,
in the weight of his tired chest,
his soul still whispers of galaxies,
of the infinity he loves,
of the boundless light
he has not yet lost.

He is not a broken man.
He is a long journey in human form,
a pulse that refuses to fade,
a quiet flame in the dark
still pushing for better.

The Walk