I Write

inspired by “my muse” the idea of drawing from the hurt

I write from the places that ache,
From corners of me no light can reach,
Where whispers of old wounds speak
And shadows cradle the truths I keep.

The pen bleeds what the heart cannot,
The ink carries my silent revolt,
Every line a scar made art,
Every stanza a shattered part.

Muse of pain, you sit beside me,
Turning broken into beauty I cannot hide,
From hurt, I craft a world reborn,
In the ashes of grief, my soul adorns.