An Ode to the Brave Who Seek Forgiveness

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An Ode to the Brave Who Seek Forgiveness

To turn is not to cower, but to rise,
True strength is seen in humbled eyes.
For pride may roar, yet hearts can bend,
And only in bending do wounds begin to mend.

It takes no courage to dig in deep,
To hoard regret and silence keep.
But oh, the soul who dares to speak,
Who stands, though humbled, is far from weak.

To say, “I was wrong,” is a warrior’s cry,
A thunderous voice beneath the sky.
Not bound by shame, nor lost in past,
But freed at last—homeward cast.

And greater still, the one who hears,
Who sees past anger, past the years.
Who offers not a bitter chain,
But hands that heal, that end the pain.

For walls may rise and bridges burn,
And hatred mocks those who return.
Yet mercy is the sword that shines,
That cuts through darkness—through the lines.

So let them come, the lost, the torn,
The ones who wandered, battle-worn.
No past can cage, no sorrow damn,
When love says simply, **“Here I am.”**

Civitasvox
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