Once, shadows whispered with a chilling grace,

Eyes wide with dread, fear showed on his face,

But now he stands, no tremble, no sound,

In the face of the storm, his feet hold the ground

He walks through the woods, unflinching, unscarred,

Lips curved at the screams that echo from afar,

No longer does he flinch, from the voice in the night,

Instead, he watches the flicker of fading light

He has learned to stand where others would flee,

As the world unfolds with a new certainty,

And in every silence, his heart seems to find,

A rhythm that pulses— dark, yet refined.