It's true. There was shadow.
But not for lack of light,
for excess within.
The cave became a home,
the echo, habit.
And the more tactful walking that passed
was the only compass. Mine.
For centuries,
everything was nameless gray.
Each wall seemed to be all of them.
The air tasted of waiting.
The days didn't count,
they dragged on.
But at some moment,
not exact,
not marked,
something was different.
A tremor
at the edges of the darkness.
A small portion of clarity
that didn't come from the eyes,
was from somewhere else,
quieter,
more certain.
It was light,
yes,
but formless.
Not a sun.
Not an exit.
Barely a presence
that no longer hid.
I was in the tunnel,
so long that it was already a universe,
it began to have an end
because it was no longer everything.
Each step
was just as uncertain,
but I felt less heavy now.
My body knew
that beyond that dark corridor
there was light.
I realized I wasn't escaping,
what I was doing was crossing my darkness with determination.
It was painful but necessary. Finally, light at the end of the tunnel.