Fear of losing is more horrifying than actually losing.
Some heart-made bonds feel thicker than blood, bruising
The walls we built to protect ourselves from being known.
Strange how strangers become home, while family feels alone.

I’m standing here, unsure, trembling at tomorrow’s gate,
Not because I see darkness, but because I can’t see my fate.
I carry questions heavier than my own breath,
And hopes that feel too fragile, too close to death.

Why do the ones we choose stay longer than the ones that were given?
Why does love sometimes heal and sometimes feel like prison?
Why does my heart still stretch toward people who no longer stay?
Why does silence feel louder when I pray?

I am not aware of the future; I’m helpless today,
But somewhere inside this uncertainty, I still hide a ray,
A tiny spark whispering that His plan is never late,
That even the heaviest heartache has a destined expiry date.

So I breathe, even when it hurts, even when I break.
I hold on to the One who never lets go, for His mercy’s sake.
And I learn that losing isn’t a loss when He writes the story,
And every wound finds meaning when returned to His glory.