Last night I opened the door to a fear I do not know,
a stranger from the street.
Its overwhelming silhouette now casting over my feet.
It greeted me like a neighbour,
tightly gripping at my hand,
a warmth not becoming of the spectre I did not understand.
For my life I've carried this scar.
A symbol of my mother's mercy,
A blessing of a life for which others have been thirsty.
I quietly parade it in defiance,
that slender crescent moon,
rising from my skin so as not to be forgotten.
Now I stand at the doorway of my conscience
and warily make acquaintance,
with the helpless fear that long feasted on my mother's patience.
Jul 29, 2025
Jul 29, 2025 at 1:05 PM UTC
Last night I opened the door to a fear I do not know,
a stranger from the street.
Its overwhelming silhouette now casting over my feet.
It greeted me like a neighbour,
tightly gripping at my hand,
a warmth not becoming of the spectre I did not understand.
For my life I've carried this scar.
A symbol of my mother's mercy,
A blessing of a life for which others have been thirsty.
I quietly parade it in defiance,
that slender crescent moon,
rising from my skin so as not to be forgotten.
Now I stand at the doorway of my conscience
and warily make acquaintance,
with the helpless fear that long feasted on my mother's patience.
