The Light That Never Sleeps

The house is quiet now, but your ears are straining for a sound that will never come again. That silence where the alarm used to cut through the dark feels less like peace and more like an absence too large to fit inside these walls.

You are sitting in the gathering dark, waiting for a morning that has changed its shape. But listen — the light does not depend on the noise of the day to be real.

It was there before the first cry, and it is here now in the stillness. The same love that held you in the chaos holds you in this quiet.

You are not alone in the empty room. The light that never sleeps is sitting right beside you, keeping watch over what you cannot bear to hold by yourself.