Lisa Stewart Biography

In the throes of a tempest, unseen but felt,
A soul battles shadows, where despair is dealt.
Each breath a skirmish, invisible and raw,
Against the relentless pull of addiction's claw.
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In the quiet corners where laughter once played,
Echoes now linger, in the light that has strayed.
Ghosts of smiles, memories worn thin, Marking the absence, of what might have been.
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In the depths of a battle, internally waged,
Lies a soul tethered by troubles, engaged.
Caught in a tempest of doubt and despair,
Searching for breath in a suffocating air.
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In the gentle folds of the evening's embrace,
Rests a kind soul, with a tranquil face.
A spirit tender, a whisper light,
Casting warmth into the cold of night.
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