The bright light of the sun
falls on me.
The cool wind touches my skin,
while the shadow behind me is growing too light.
My body is becoming translucent.
Dust flowing with the wind is pricking my eyes,
but they are no longer tearing,
because my eyes are tired of crying.
The light grows brighter,
the wind is turning wild,
either the light will pass through me,
or I will lose myself in the storm.
Feb 23
Feb 23, 2026 at 1:54 PM UTC
The bright light of the sun
falls on me.
The cool wind touches my skin,
while the shadow behind me is growing too light.
My body is becoming translucent.
Dust flowing with the wind is pricking my eyes,
but they are no longer tearing,
because my eyes are tired of crying.
The light grows brighter,
the wind is turning wild,
either the light will pass through me,
or I will lose myself in the storm.
Sufferings are out of my capacity now.
Not every bright light gives u motivation, few are bright enough to find out your cracks...
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