Threads unspooling in the dark.
Are these signs or simple moments,
Hidden pieces, fleeting sparks?
What of dragons, black and burning,
Guarding truths I fear to face?
Does their fire cleanse the chaos,
Or erase what can't be traced?
I dare to ask, I crave the telling.
Though censured once for seeking more,
I will follow every shadow,
Knock on every hidden door.
I want to know, to grasp the meaning,
To hold the lines and stitch them tight.
Even if the answers hurt me,
I will bear their blazing light.
Will you tell me, shadowed keeper,
Of the story yet untold?
Will you trust my fragile spirit
To embrace what truth unfolds?