Life has its dark moments,
when we lose our soul's embrace,
and struggle to recognize
our true form, our rightful place.
Each time we open weary eyes,
our essence hides, concealed,
veiled beneath a heavy fog,
with dimmed vision, unrevealed.
We wander through the shifting mist,
our sight and mind entwined,
consumed by shadows creeping in,
leaving our truth behind.
In these moments, we need most
divine light to guide our way—
to see with eyes of sacred grace
the light not far away.
Beyond the haze, a beacon shines,
awaiting to be found—
with divine hands to lift the veil,
our truth is safe and sound.
MyKoul
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem