Bloom in Shadows

Bloom in Shadows

In the sepulcher of night, where shadows coil, A soul awakens, gasping for breath, Its coffin walls, cold and unyielding, Whisper secrets of forgotten death.

“Buried alive,” it cries, the soil heavy, Yet perhaps this tomb is not a prison, But a cradle—a dark, loamy cradle, Where roots entwine and dreams begin.

For when despair wraps its icy tendrils, And the heart trembles in its wooden cage, Remember this: you are not forsaken, But planted deep within life’s hidden stage.

The earth, a womb of secrets and sorrows, Nurtures your fragile bones with ancient care, And as darkness weaves its silent incantations, Your spirit stirs, yearning for the rarefied air.

Push through the loam, my weary traveler, Unfurl your petals in defiance of the night, For buried beneath the weight of despair, Lies the promise of dawn—a spectral light.

Bloom, oh soul, with petals of obsidian, Drink the moon’s tears and the sun’s fire, Let your roots delve into forgotten memories, And your leaves whisper secrets to the wind’s lyre.

Fear not the darkness; it is but a prelude, A requiem sung by the soil’s ancient choir, And when the time comes, burst forth—unyielding, For you were never buried; you were merely planted to inspire.

"When you find yourself in a dark place and think you have been buried alive, perhaps you have simply been planted. All you need to do is bloom.”

• Unknown