A small voice reaches out Beyond time and space, a Prayerful sonnet aching Upon lips drenched with tears. The wee hours, midwifed and Guarded by eagle song, Cradle freedom, a mere Breath, gratitude-grounded, Deep within soul center. I speak their names, the ones Who fed the inferno, Cauterizing my wounds; Still, apathy festers. I must break chains, lest I Trigger my doom spiral: Bitter, heartless despair — A poisonous apple, Society’s shadow. Snow White took a small bite, Sleep-dying, heaviness Crushing her throat, a truth Rapidly extinguished. Her gift, a latent seed, Unfurls green growth, its roots Cracking toxic bedrock — Fear, its apparition; Self-worth, my salvation.
Journal Prompts: How would you describe your journey thus far with shadow? What is your “liberation”?