Sometimes I make mistakes.
My mistakes fall like raindrops, soft and quick,
vanishing into soil where memories stick.
But power carves its name, deep and wide,
etched in stone—it cannot hide.
Fates twist like words in a palindrome’s dance,
repeating themselves, as if given a chance.
Between the lines of right and wrong,
I walk a path where history belongs.
Each step I take reflects the past,
my journey framed by shadows cast.
In the mirror of time, I may stand alone,
but I'm bound by forces still unknown.
Now I am tired of these meaningless flights;
one day, I will cut my wings and fill the skies,
a request for peace in the absence of earth,
in the heart of the soul, from a far-beloved house.
#thought
Sometimes, the things I chase aren't what bring me peace. True freedom comes when I release what no longer serves me, stop running, and allow myself to return to something meaningful.