“The Last Thread”

He cries, he screams, but strikes no wall, His pain is loud, yet silent to all. It chokes him deep, a breathless fight, Still, he breathes through endless night. He's lost before—dreams, friends, and kin, But this time, grief claws deeper in. It feels as though the final tie, That held him close, has said goodbye. Storms have lashed his weary soul, And every time, he played his role. But now he trembles, weak and bare, Unsure if strength is still in there. His mind is lost in endless “Why?” “How much more pain? Must I still try?” Answers float in silent air, But none remain, just cold despair. Yet one truth burns within his chest: To stop is not his fate or rest. No savior comes, no heart can see, The weight he bears so silently. So he will rise, though spirit sore, Wipe his face, and try once more. A breath, a step, through all that’s grim— The only path is forward… him.