I slept beneath a sky of glass,
Where dreams were stitched with threads of lies,
And every star that blinked above
Was just a tear I’d yet to cry.
The world moved on without a sound,
A whisper lost in shifting sand
I wore my silence like a crown,
Afraid to reach, afraid to stand.
But morning came, not with a roar,
Nor sun that burned with holy fire
It came as breath, a quiet shore,
A pulse benea...