Faith Written in Dust

They stood under thorns,

asking for shade—

as if pain

could ever protect them.

I chose the road.

Not because it was easy,

but because it was mine.

Blisters taught me

what comfort never could.

Silence showed me

what noise hides.

And somewhere between

every fall

and every step—

I began to believe:

Destinations don’t appear.

They are made.

Slowly.

Quietly.

From the dust

you leave behind.

So I walk.

Even when the sun burns.

Even when the night forgets me.

Because I know—

one day,

the horizon will remember

my name.