His soul, weary and worn,
Felt shattered, alone, and forlorn.
A throne, once his, now lost to the past,
Leaving him broken, with a heart that wouldn't last.
Fear, a constant companion, held him tight,
Uncertainty, a burden, day and endless night.
But he'd had enough, no more living in dread,
He shattered the chains, and rose from his bed.
With newfound strength, he seized the reins,
Confronted his demons, and broke through the pains.
His soul whispered, 'No more begging, no more strife, '
'It's time to rise, to claim your life.'
'My time has come, ' he declared, 'I won't fall, '
'I'll rise up, fight, and stand tall.'
Fearlessness, his birthright, now shone so bright,
He donned his broken crown, and let his spirit take flight.
His soul, once starved, now feasted on love and light,
Nourished by true connections, and the warmth of the night.
Toxicity, a distant memory, was cast aside,
As he rejoiced in his newfound strength, and let his spirit glide.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem