Not gold, not fame,
but that cluster of light—
the first promise,
shimmering in dream.
Before sound, before form,
before the mind's entangled threads,
in the silence before words,
before the lies of letters,
before deception wore its face.
I thought I could borrow light,
as if on loan,
knocking at foreign doors,
offering forged papers
for every wound I bled.
A self-sold hero—
restless, hollow,
a purchased glory:
tarnished, unstable.
In the mirror, my reflection:
an alien's weary stare.
Tired of masks too long worn,
I trembled beneath the devil's glare.
The weight of false claims
bowed the hero's spine.
Every secret turned to lead,
unyielding, austere.
So I turned back,
leaving gilded halls behind,
their hollow echoes fading,
their false commands undone.
I sought the voice lost in the noise,
the ancient call,
the heart's true compass.
The path was thorns,
its signs half-erased,
the door ahead
swaying in shadow.
Yet in memory's pulse,
like a star's patient glow,
my heart whispered:
"Here is the spark you know."
No longer a trickster
spinning webs of deceit,
no broken hero,
aching, incomplete—
but a bare soul,
weary, returning,
back to its origin,
its essence relearning.
Shadows quivered
like a breath-stirred veil,
a tremor rippling
down the unseen trail.
The door, once a wall,
groaned within its grain,
its wood sighing open,
releasing old pain.
Then—Radiance:
not sudden, not searing,
but softly unfolding,
dissolving doubt,
silently clearing.
Thorns bloomed into flowers,
darkness fell away.
That spark remembered—
now a flame to stay.
Masks burned,
false names to ash.
The door swung wide—
no stranger's land—
but home,
joyous, unbound.
That voice of promise,
wordless, profound.
No ghost, no memory,
no restless sleep—
but my own truth,
awakened, complete.
My gaze now inward,
fixed on the light.
Where deceptions shattered,
the self took flight.
Here I stand,
where once I fled—
now speaking.
The promise once lost
has found me anew.
The promise returned:
eternal and true.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem