The world was grey like a canvas washed with rain,
My spirit dampened, where joy was a distant flare.
Each step was a struggle, burdened by the strain
Of doubts and fears, a soul adrift in a nightmare.

But then a whisper as soft as summer breeze,
Stirred in the depths like a flicker of light.
And hope was a fragile seed, began to please,
Pushing through shadows, yearning for the bright.