Through Fire, Faith Endures

Footsteps in a quiet hall, frames along the wall. Frida Kahlo's broken

column, tears but standing tall. Spine of nails is stored inside,

yet courage in her eyes. Pain that will not have the last word,

strength that never dies. Then Picasso's Guernica, black and gray like sirens.

Bombs and broken horses, a mother's wordless violence. A canvas crying

justice, streets without salvation. Every light a warning flare against annihilation.

Every canvas is a question, every color holds a scar. Where does hope

begin its whisper when the nights are long and dark? Through the fire.