After Emotional Destruction Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

The walls came down, the roof gave way,
A storm had raged and ruined the day.
But in the dust, a flicker gleamed,
A fire that still intensely dreamed.

It wasn't the house, the pretty shell,
That held the fire, knew its spell.
It was the spirit, deep inside,
Where something real could still abide.

A seed of hope, a stubborn sprout,
Pushing through where life felt out.
A memory of sun and air,
Whispering, 'You're still right there.'

The cracks are deep, the scars remain,
A constant echo of the pain.
But still the heart, though bruised and sore,
Beats on, and asks for something more.

This ember glows, a tiny spark,
Guiding through the lonely dark.
Not quite whole, not quite the same,
But living still, with its own flame.