The Lantern Keeper

The Lantern Keeper 

Grief came first, a weary man,  

With hollow eyes and trembling hands.  

He dragged his feet through fields of dust,  

And turned my dreams to brittle rust.  

Then anger rode on burning hooves,  

It struck the ground in violent grooves.  

And fear—a pale and voiceless child—  

Clung to my chest, so weak, so wild.  

But through the night, a stranger came,  

A lantern keeper wrapped in flame.  

She knelt beside my broken skies,  

And placed the sun inside my eyes.  

Her voice, a river carved with light,  

Spoke softly to the stubborn night:  

No storm can tear what roots have grown,  

And no lost soul is ever alone.