I reflect on the geometry of patience,
the lessons filtered through the iron light
of twenty-seven vanishing years. - of twenty seven visiting angels who would sing in dissonance, long into the night


I learned that a wall, if stared at long enough,
will eventually dissolve, not into dust, but into
a stack of compressed silence.
And inside that silence, I saw hunger—
not for bread, but for the impossible alchemy
of transforming rage into a useful key.


They showed me the mechanism of that lock.
It was not built from concrete, but from the fibers
of my own anticipated bitterness.
I held the sharp, beautiful weight of vengeance,
a collapsed star, cold and dense, waiting to anchor me
to the past's dark gravitational pull.


But the lesson glowed:
Hatred is the heaviest cloak.
To forgive is not to erase the shadow,
but to step out of its shape entirely,
to let the wound remain—a translucent scar
through which the future must be viewed.


I understood that freedom
is not the sound of a gate clanging open,
but the internal architecture shifting.
The long walk was never about distance.
It was about walking backward into the fire
of reconciliation, extending the hand
that should, by all logic, be clenching a fist.


Now, I carry the weight of that inheritance.
I feel the fractal shattering of the past,
where every shard of pain, if held correctly,
becomes a lens showing a different colour of the shared sky.
We build the future upon a spectral bridge, I realize,
where the foundations are constructed
not from victory, but from profound, deliberate grace.

A Translucent Scar Through Which the Future Must be Viewed

Songwriter under Artist development : James Sanger. Represented by Anara Publishing +44 (0) 116 253 0203 (ext. 4)

A Translucent Scar Through Which the Future Must be Viewed

Gabriel Brox