Darkroom Of The Soul Poem by April Humason

I lived inside a silent room
Where air felt heavy, dark like bloom.
No voices near, no gentle song,
Just empty hours drifting long.

My body shook with quiet ache,
My heart too tired just to break.
Loneliness, a shadowed chair,
Always filled, but no one there.

I tried to breathe through layered pain,
Watching seasons hit the pane.
Every tear I dared not show
Fell like rain that no one knows.

But even when I felt unseen,
There was a God who stood between
The weight of dark and fragile breath,
The pull of numbness, pull of death.

He stayed when light felt far away,
When night would not release the day.
He held me in the waiting room
And whispered, 'This will not be your tomb.'

Now when I look at who I was,
I see His hand in silent love.
That darkroom was not where I'd stay—
It was where He taught my heart to pray.