The Weight Below
He stands where silence meets the sky,
a rope wound tight through trembling hands—
beneath him, stone and memory fly,
suspended by his lone command.
The rock, a heart too scared to fall,
wrapped in threads of duty, grief, and grace,
hangs heavy in the air’s thin call,
a burden none but he can face.
The cliff is time. The rope, resolve.
The clouds, the ghosts that whisper “yield.”
Yet still he leans, he will not solve
the pain—just hold it, unrevealed.
For some are anchors, not by choice,
but by the shape their soul became.
They bear the weight, without a voice,
and never ask for love or name.
https://poetryoflifeweb.com/
You can copy and paste link to my Poetry of life Poems, that shows the artwork that goes with each poem.
Feb 19
Feb 19, 2026 at 3:53 AM UTC
The Weight Below
He stands where silence meets the sky,
a rope wound tight through trembling hands—
beneath him, stone and memory fly,
suspended by his lone command.
The rock, a heart too scared to fall,
wrapped in threads of duty, grief, and grace,
hangs heavy in the air’s thin call,
a burden none but he can face.
The cliff is time. The rope, resolve.
The clouds, the ghosts that whisper “yield.”
Yet still he leans, he will not solve
the pain—just hold it, unrevealed.
For some are anchors, not by choice,
but by the shape their soul became.
They bear the weight, without a voice,
and never ask for love or name.
https://poetryoflifeweb.com/
You can copy and paste link to my Poetry of life Poems, that shows the artwork that goes with each poem.
Anchors Without Names They bear the weight, without a voice, and never ask for love or name. For those who hold what others cannot see. This poem is part of a series of 4 poems.
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