The structure failed, the center could not hold;
A silent quake, and everything turned cold.
The sturdy walls of who I thought I was
Are now a pile of dust, without a cause.
A heavy blanket woven out of fear
Covers the ruins, thick and standing near.
I sift the shards, but find no guiding chart,
No blueprint left to mend this fractured heart.
The hands that once knew labor, strength, and grace
Hang limp and useless in this empty space.
I ask the silence, "What am I to do?"
But only echoes answer, "See it through."
Where does the strength reside, the will to stand,
When all I built has crumbled to the sand?
It's not in logic, not in forced command—
It's just a whisper, in this barren land.
It is the knowledge that the smallest light
Can cut the deepest, darkest, endless night.
It is the choice to breathe, to simply be,
And trust a truth that broken eyes can't see.
Faith is not knowing, but the gentle leap,
A promise made in hours spent asleep.
It's finding strength in one untarnished thing....
Perhaps the dawn, the way a sparrow sings.
You are not whole, not yet, but you are here;
Rebuild with hope, not stone, and silence fear.
And when the darkness presses on your soul,
Remember roots are reaching for a goal.
The mightiest oaks were once a fragile seed,
They broke their shells to answer to a need.
So let this breaking be a fertile start,
A softer landscape for a gentler heart.
The strength you seek is not the force of stone,
But the soft courage of a faith unknown.
Just lift one hand, and reach for what is true...
The quiet, constant light residing inside you.
The sun still rises, though your eyes may weep;
This heavy promise, you are meant to keep.
You will rebuild, though piece by weary piece,
And find within the rubble lasting peace.
The sacred work of living now begins,
Take one small step, and see where hope wins.
Michael Powers
"STYXX ON FIRE "
Nov 20, 2025
Nov 20, 2025 at 8:01 AM UTC
The structure failed, the center could not hold;
A silent quake, and everything turned cold.
The sturdy walls of who I thought I was
Are now a pile of dust, without a cause.
A heavy blanket woven out of fear
Covers the ruins, thick and standing near.
I sift the shards, but find no guiding chart,
No blueprint left to mend this fractured heart.
The hands that once knew labor, strength, and grace
Hang limp and useless in this empty space.
I ask the silence, "What am I to do?"
But only echoes answer, "See it through."
Where does the strength reside, the will to stand,
When all I built has crumbled to the sand?
It's not in logic, not in forced command—
It's just a whisper, in this barren land.
It is the knowledge that the smallest light
Can cut the deepest, darkest, endless night.
It is the choice to breathe, to simply be,
And trust a truth that broken eyes can't see.
Faith is not knowing, but the gentle leap,
A promise made in hours spent asleep.
It's finding strength in one untarnished thing....
Perhaps the dawn, the way a sparrow sings.
You are not whole, not yet, but you are here;
Rebuild with hope, not stone, and silence fear.
And when the darkness presses on your soul,
Remember roots are reaching for a goal.
The mightiest oaks were once a fragile seed,
They broke their shells to answer to a need.
So let this breaking be a fertile start,
A softer landscape for a gentler heart.
The strength you seek is not the force of stone,
But the soft courage of a faith unknown.
Just lift one hand, and reach for what is true...
The quiet, constant light residing inside you.
The sun still rises, though your eyes may weep;
This heavy promise, you are meant to keep.
You will rebuild, though piece by weary piece,
And find within the rubble lasting peace.
The sacred work of living now begins,
Take one small step, and see where hope wins.
Michael Powers
"STYXX ON FIRE "
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