Some souls are born with light in hand,
A quiet grace, a love so grand.
They bloom like spring in every room,
And lift the hearts they help exhume.
They are the reason joy takes flight,
The calm that breaks a stormy night.
Their presence heals, their laughter stays
A blessing wrapped in human shape.
But others come with darker thread,
With hearts like stone, with words like lead.
They touch the world and leave a bruise,
Each bond they form, they twist and use.
Not every birth is cause to cheer
Some bring only pain near.
How sad the stars must have aligned,
When such a soul crossed into time.
The universe, with ancient eyes,
Must’ve trembled under grieving skies.
It wept for all they’d scar and break,
For every soul their hands would shake.
A lifetime sown in grief and rage,
They write their names on sorrow’s page.
The day they came, the skies turned black
A warning cry the heavens lacked.
And still they walk, and still they harm,
With smiling masks and poisoned charm.
While others shine to bless and mend,
They tear, they twist, they never end.
Not all who live were meant to heal
Some were born to scar and steal.
What a tragic waste of breath
to live a life that only spreads grief and death.
— Mekdes