The Path to True Healing

The past still lingers, whispering low,

Echoes of wounds we used to know.

Scars like ink on fragile skin,

Stories of where we've been within.

We turn away, afraid to see,

The weight of pain, the history.

Yet healing waits where shadows lie,

Not in escape, but asking why.

To face the storm, to stand so tall,

To hear its voice, embrace it all.

Not as a burden, not as chains,

But as the root from which strength gains.

Each wound a lesson, each tear a guide,

A map where truth and wisdom hide.

For in the pain, the seeds are sown,

That help us rise, that help us grow.

So let the past weave through your soul,

Not as a void, but making whole.

For healing comes not when we flee,

But when we learn to set it free.