Smooth the Lines

A heart that holds, a soul that burns,

Gripped by wounds, the past returns.

Chains of anger, forged in pain,

Lock the spirit, bound in vain.

But time moves on, the river flows,

Seeds of mercy, one must sow.

For walls of hate, though strong and tall,

Crack and crumble when grace calls.

The past is stone, unshaped, unkind,

Yet hands of love can smooth the lines.

A bitter heart, though firm and proud,

Blooms in peace when grace allows.

No road ahead where grudges reign,

No light where vengeance fuels the pain.

To rise, to heal, to stand renewed,

Forgive—and shape a future true.