The Light Remembers Who You Are

The voice that tries to speak hope sounds like a stranger's tonight. You hear the words, but they do not feel like yours.

The darkness has made your own throat feel foreign. That is the weight of this hour.

It steals the familiar and leaves you holding something that sounds like a lie. But listen — the light does not depend on your voice to exist.

It was there before you spoke a single word of comfort. It is there now, even when your own tone feels alien.

There is light within a person of light, and it lights up the whole world. The light is not the sound you make.

It is the silence underneath the sound. It is the part of you that knows the truth even when your mouth cannot form it.

You do not have to force the voice to sound like home. The light remembers who you are, even when you sound like a stranger.