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Half Shadow, Half Flame

I could speak a thousand words, in a thousand different voices,
and yet, what I am… is simply what I am.
No disguise hides beneath this weary skin,
no promise lingers in these slow, hesitant steps.

Awake — if this can be called awakening —
caught between the lack of time that steals me from the outside
and the lack of will that hollows me from within.
Perhaps it’s a strange balance,
a dance of halves that never quite meet:
half impulse, half surrender.

So here I stand: fifty percent present,
fifty percent unsure.
Those who wish to walk beside this wandering shadow — let them.
Those who choose to leave — may they do so unbound.
There is no blame in farewell, no glory in staying.

Either we breathe soul into this effort,
or we keep sinking into stillness,
like leaves swirling endlessly in the same current.

And I… I wait, somewhere in the folds of time,
to awaken fully.
To find again those reasons — magical, genuine, inevitable —
that reignite my will to exist,
the spark that reminds me
why it is worth breathing with an open heart.