The Shaken Light Poem by ashok jadhav

The wind beats hard against my trembling frame,
And shadows crowd the corners of my heart.
I raised my voice in prayer, in hope, in need,
Yet silence answered where I sought the sky.
The wounds are raw, the night extends its hand,
And every promised mercy seems withdrawn.
I question what I held as certain once,
The steadfast light that guided every step.
Does faith endure when all the world conspires
To break the spirit and erode the soul?
Doubt grows, relentless, like a winter frost,
And even memory of solace chills to gray.
Yet in the darkness, something stirs, unseen,
A fragile spark that trembles but persists.
Perhaps belief is not the absence of pain,
But courage held despite the questioning,
A hand extended toward a sky unknown,
And still the heart lifts, though it cannot see.