Weathering

In the city of cyclones, hearts live in fear,
Where planes of hope take off but never near.
Heathens of deceit offer false escape,
Yet cyclones relent, they don’t eternally reshape.

They uproot houses, humans, and ties,
Leaving mourning hearts under stormy skies.
With each new dawn, they begin to mend,
Bury the past, and rebuild, my friend.

Starting anew with less than before,
One step forward, two steps, then more.
In this cycle of struggle and gain,
Resilient hearts endure, despite the pain.

Through the wreckage, they find strength anew,
Bound by hope, in the skies so blue.
With each setback faced, they rise once more,
Embracing the challenge, their spirits soar.

For in the city of cyclones, they’ve learned,
To weather the storms, however they’ve turned.

In the valley of echoes, where silence once reigned,
Dreams lay in ruins, forgotten, and pained.
Shadows of sorrow swept through the land,
Yet light still flickers, where hearts make a stand.

They buried their names in the dust and the stone,
Built from the ashes, though grieving alone.
But dawn doesn’t wait for the mourners to rise —
It calls them with fire, it paints the skies.

With shattered hands, they gather the flame,
Learning to live while never the same.
Step by slow step, through loss they tread,
Honoring voices, both living and dead.

In trials unspoken, in storms not yet passed,
They forge their tomorrow from remnants cast.
With every collapse, they stand again tall,
Knowing that rising is worth every fall.

So in the valley where echoes remain,
They whisper of hope born after the rain.
For hearts that have broken, and still choose to beat,
Are stronger than fate, and never concede.