New stories to be told

This pain of losing myself lingers in shame, between withered silk red roses and rain. But, I saw the sun pushing itself through darkened clouds, I took this as a sign. A resurrection upon dawn, upon a new awakening, where flowers have risen back to life, pleasing, sharing their sweet perfumed fragrance. Birds were testifying, singing their morning songs. I saw trees press up through concrete, where they had no business growing. A newness of life, it sets ablaze, all around me, it's clear that one should grow and change. Stones are about to roll away, a tomb is being emptied out, freeing me from this death of darkness I have created, leading me to my heart and light, where I have been missing day and night. New stories are ready to be told, from scratch I begin, following hope, joy, and passion I stand with them. Where all the beautiful flowers come to stay, washing this self-doubt away.