Myth
In the quiet corridors of the soul,
Salvation weaves its ethereal threads.
Not a fortress of stone or a key of gold,
But a whisper that stirs, a story unsaid.
It’s the echo of second chances,
A soft hymn sung by the heart’s yearning.
A sanctuary within, where forgiveness dances,
Where the broken find healing, the turning.
No grand proclamation, no thunderous decree,
Salvation, a quiet revolution, setting spirits free.
Drew Frederic