In shadows deep, where whispered sorrows sigh,
A boy, alone, speaks truths they never see.
Condemned by laws not written by the sky,
But penned by those who claim divinity.
They call him evil, cast their stones of blame,
As if their hands are clean, their hearts are pure.
Their holy words ignite his silent flame,
A wound that festers, aching without cure.
Each night, he kneels, his prayers a bitter plea,
“God, take me home; this world was not my place.”
He questions why, beneath the endless sea
Of stars, his heart must bear such harsh disgrace.
No friends to hold, no arms to break his fall,
For fear they’d flee if ever truth was known.
He builds his walls, a fortress cold and small,
A kingdom ruled by shadows, all alone.
Their words, like chains, wrap tight around his soul,
Each slur a dagger, carving deep and wide.
The pain, a silent thief, exacts its toll,
A storm within he’s forced to ever hide.
The weight of hate, a burden he must bear,
Yet still he stands, though battered by the storm.
His spirit fights, though fragile, worn, and rare,
A spark of hope within a heart forlorn.
What crime is love? What sin in being true?
He wonders as the stars begin to fade.
Why must he pay for sins he never knew,
While others bask in light he’s been betrayed?
Yet still, he dreams of days when love is free,
When hearts are judged by kindness, not by fear.
A world where all can simply be,
And every soul is held and cherished dear.
In silence now, he whispers to the night,
“I am enough, though battered and alone.”
A quiet vow, a spark that burns so bright,
A truth within, a love he’s always known.
This pain he bears, no one will ever see,
But still he stands, and still he dares to be.
