One day I will tell a story

In the crucible of time, where shadows dance and play, I'll weave a tapestry of trials, of tribulations' sway. For now, the narrative unfolds, a testament to my soul, A chronicle of struggles, of dreams that make me whole. The hours tick by, like grains of sand in an hourglass cold, As I toil, unseen, in the underground, where seeds take hold. The world above, a distant hum, a murmur of disdain, As others, impatient, dismiss my visions, my heart's deep pain. They do not comprehend the alchemy, the transformation's fire, That forges strength, resilience, and a spirit that aspires. They do not see the roots that grow, the foundations that I lay, The dreams that die, only to resurrect, in a brighter day. But I am not defeated, though my steps may falter and slow, For I am planting, nurturing, and cultivating, as the seasons grow. And though they may deride, belittle, and whisper behind my back, I know that I am fueled, sustained, and empowered by a force that never cracks. The One within me, a spark, a flame, a burning fire, Is greater than the world's noise, its doubts, and its heartless desire. Yah knows my name, my heart, my soul, my deepest cry, And in that knowledge, I am free, I am strong, I am alive.