Lacrimosa — Sun Path

Sun Path

The sun does not soften what it finds. It burns through the surface. It leaves the edges bare.

I went through the fire

I cleansed myself

I stepped from the pyre

and finally found my wealth

Stand in the flare of it, or turn back while you still can.

Cross the threshold Or step into the void

For those who stand in the light, still shivering.

These poems trace the moment when the sun finally reaches you—after losses, moves, migrations, and small private apocalypses. It is not gentle. It burns. But it also shows what refuses to die inside you.