“The landscape is the same, yet strangely new, As if the very air has turned to wine; A vibrant pulse in every shade and hue, Now shimmers with a grace that feels divine.

To love the self is not to change the scene, But change the glass through which the world is shown; To find the brilliance where the void had been, In every seed of strength that I have sown.

The fragments of the past are set in light, A sanctuary built of breath and bone; For once the inner chambers are made bright, The soul can finally claim its rightful throne.”