Unquietude

There is a room inside my mind
Where all my worries stay,
They gather dust from yesterday
And borrow from tomorrow’s day.

There is a shadow on the wall
That grows when lights grow dim,
It knows the songs I used to sing
And every doubt within.

It tells me I am falling short,
That I am running late,
That every door I knock upon
Was never meant to wait.

It counts the words I never spoke,
The chances I let pass,
It holds a mirror to my face
And makes the cracks look vast.

It whispers, “Stay where you are,
The world is far too wide.”
And slowly builds a little cage
I decorate inside.

But somewhere underneath the noise,
Beyond the fear and pain,
A small and stubborn piece of me
Still rises up again.

It does not shout. It does not fight.
It does not need to prove.
It simply takes one step ahead
And remembers how to move.

So let the voice inside me speak,
Let it predict my fall.
I have survived its darkest nights—
I am still here after all.