The souls of this world move in quiet cycles,
passing through unseen thresholds,
lingering in the space between.
Each turn of the wheel brings them back—
to beginnings that feel like endings.
Under the muted glow of lanterns,
they wait at the edge of choice,
their paths fracturing like glass.
The weight of past decisions clings,
a shadow stretching into the present.
Yet, in the cracks of regret,
a new light trembles,
unfolding slowly.
The souls tethered to this earth—
who will meet them with tenderness?
Who will loosen the knots of their burdens?
They press forward, pulled by longing,
rooted in the soil of what was.
The cycle does not break,
it dissolves into itself,
a quiet rhythm of becoming.
In sorrow’s low hum,
in joy’s fleeting pulse,
they carry forward.
The waltz is endless—
a weaving of lives,
of losses and fragile triumphs.
Even in the weight of their distractions,
grace whispers beneath.
To the countless souls,
once denied a horizon,
may they stand now
in the quiet light of belonging.
And still, the dance moves on—
soft, relentless, through shadow and dawn.
Charles Ho Wang Mak is a legal academic. He lives in Scotland, where he starts to admire poetry.