A poem from a client

The fight for life

A whisper first, a gentle pull,
A spark that promised to make me whole.
It kissed my lips, it held my hand,
Until I could no longer stand.

The days blurred past in hollow haze,
Chasing highs through endless maze.
I swore I'd stop, I swore I'd fight,
But it owned my days, it stole my nights.

Yet deep within, a fire remained,
A spark still fought beneath the chains.
No more its weight, no more its lies—
Tonight, I rise. Tonight, I fly.

The road is steep, the night is long,
But I have found where I belong.
With every step, the dark recedes—
At last, my soul is truly free.

The past still whispers, soft yet cold,
A ghost that lingers, pale and old.
But I stand firm, my heart unchained,
No longer bound, no more restrained.

I choose the light, I claim the day,
The storm has passed, I've found my way.
Though scars remain, they do not own—
For I am here. I stand. I've grown.