You are here. The world has gone quiet, the colors have bled to grey. This is not a place you visit, it is a season you inhabit. The air is thick with the absence of light, and every echo is a doubt. Do not mistake this for an ending. It is the hushed arena where all true journeys are forged.
To Step Through Darkness is not to run from it. It is to turn and face the abyss with both eyes open. You must name the shadows: fear, grief, loss, confusion. Let them stand before you, revealed. A warrior does not fight an unseen foe. In the act of naming, you strip the darkness of its mythic power. You see it for what it is: a terrain, not a tomb.
There is no map for this pilgrimage. There is only the path you carve with your own footsteps. Each stumble is a lesson etched into your bones. Each fall, a new understanding of the ground. You will collect scars, not as trophies of pain, but as inscriptions of survival. They are the text of your personal codex, the proof that you have met the void and continued.
Do not search for a blinding sun. Look for the first glimmer. A single, stubborn star in a black sky. The memory of a kindness. The warmth of a single, steady breath. This is your spiritual light. It was never lost, only waiting for your eyes to adjust. This faint glow is your only necessary guide. It is enough.
You will not arrive at a destination of perpetual day. You will simply realize the shadows now fall behind you. The light you carry within has been tempered in the deep, made more resilient and authentic. You have learned to see in the dark. And having known the night, you now understand the profound, earned value of the light.
I will not curse the fall of night,
For it is the forge of my own sight.
I walk the path my scars have laid,
Carrying the light that will not fade.
