I. Fracture (The Splintering) Divorce in my eyes— not just of lovers, but of trust split cleanly in two. It’s a quiet betrayal, where belief in others fractures like glass in morning frost. The break isn't loud— It’s slow, and it lingers like silence in a room that once held laughter. ____________
II. Hope (The Gaze Upward) Still, beneath the applause of stars, I offer my belief in myself— a trembling gift to their gleaming, ancient eyes. May my resilience Be a constellation they name, not out of pity, but awe. I crave mesmerizing remarks, spoken with love—not just spoken of love— if only they knew how to spell the word without misspelling it in action. ____________
III. Dust (The Reckoning) Like mystic dust on the untouched virtues of time, I’ve seen dreams— soiled, scattered, folded into the pockets of regret. Not just mine. Many. The world has walked through the fields of hope with muddy boots. And now, in my dirt eyes, I carry the stains— not of sin, but of seeing too much and still refusing to look away.