This February Monday, the day holds its light,
In the cold air rises a courage without sound:
Julienne, clear soul, refused the night,
Keeping her faith upright, like an iron blade found.

Onesimus, he, emerges from shadow and chains,
Carrying a weighty name, a detour, a fright;
He learns that a single heart can overturn its reign,
And that one is reborn whole when love makes it right.

Two paths laid bare, the same true breath:
Stand when you are bent, love when you are cut,
Say no to fear, even if all teaches that
Forgetting would be simple, and yet, we rise up.

So, this morning, whether strong or fragile,
May we walk straight: peace is in that mile.

The curtain has fallen on the red backdrops,
Promises of sugar taste like metal in the mouth;
For the one who walked with no other at his side,
Morning awakens, strange and uncouth.

No satin ribbons were untied,
Nor sought in the eyes a reflection of oneself;
He drank, alone, a coffee with fate inside,
Far from silk rhymes and false “I love yous” dealt.

Yet in this great silence where nothing was offered,
Remains a modesty, a strength uncharted:
The power of not being a heart that’s discarded,
A soul put on sale in a golden window parted.

For the love that’s missing is a demanding master,
Refusing makeup and fleeting joys’ disaster;
Better to stand tall, poor but a true giant,
Than to dwell in a dream with a hostage’s smile reliant.

Tomorrow will be gentler, without flowers that fade,
Without effort to appear or obligation to give;
In the hollow of ruins where the winds are betrayed,
We learn, slowly, how to forgive and live.

There is no shame in holding only your own heart warm when the whole world celebrates mere simulacra.

They said that love was a long journey,
But it finds its refuge in the hollow of hands,
When the clamor fades, when shadows converge
To redraw hope upon a face that understands.

I carried burdens, I crossed the winter,
And every carved word resembles a scar:
It no longer bleeds, it becomes a companion,
And lends to silence a clearer breath so far.

To love is to stand firm despite the storm,
To lay down arms, to choose truth as norm,
To trade armor for fragility,
And finally see in the other the simplest dignity.

May this day be the echo of true tenderness,
The one that knows how to heal what time can distress.