Say It Again

They say every truth has had its day,

Every word worn down by time’s decay.

But still I speak, though echoes ring—

Not for the crown, but for the king.

Perhaps it’s carved in ancient stone,

Or whispered when we’re most alone.

Yet silence grew where sound had been,

So if no one heard—say it again.

The poet wept it in a rhyme,

The prophet screamed it through the grime.

The child drew it in the sand,

The elder reached with trembling hand.

But ears were deaf, or minds were closed,

And hearts in fear became enclosed.

So though it feels like worn refrain,

For love and loss—say it again.

Say it with fire, or soft like prayer,

Say it in rooms where no one dares.

If truth once knocked and no one came,

Then knock once more, and speak the same.

For words don’t die just 'cause they’re old,

They rise again, bold yet untold.

And if it’s real, and cuts like pain,

It must be said—again, again.