ASHES

i ashed my skin

like crumbling stone

each crack a path

to the light inside me

reborn from the dark

i am whole again

**Rebirth in the Darkness: Shedding the Skin of Shadows**

There’s a moment in life when the darkness within becomes so thick, so consuming, that it seems to blot out every trace of light. It is not the night that falls around us, but the night that grows from within, a creeping void that fills every corner of our soul. This darkness, this crushing weight, is born from pain, fear, regret, and the scars of a thousand wounds. It presses inwards until we can no longer recognize ourselves, until the person we once were is buried beneath layers of hardened stone — a shell created to protect, yet ultimately, it suffocates.

Imagine a figure, a woman. She stands alone, her form cloaked in the shadow of her own making. Her skin, once vibrant and alive, has become a brittle mask, cracking and crumbling with each breath she takes. She is a painting of despair, a piece of dark art that speaks to the souls who know what it means to be lost in the abyss. Her eyes are full of pain, from a deep weariness, an exhaustion that comes from battling her own demons for far too long.

The skin that crumbles from her is not just flesh — it is the armor she has built from her pain. Each crack in this stone shell is a pathway to the light that has been hidden for so long, a light that has never truly died, only dimmed under the weight of her suffering. The process is painful, terrifying. To shed this skin is to let go of the darkness that has defined her for so long, to face the raw, vulnerable self that lies beneath. But there is no other way to survive; there is no other way to truly live.

As the stone falls away, piece by piece, the light inside her begins to shine through. It is a light born from the very darkness that sought to extinguish it. This is not a light of innocence or purity; it is a light forged in the fires of despair, a light that understands pain but is not defeated by it. It is the light of rebirth, the glow of a soul that has been broken and reforged, stronger than before.

She is reborn from the dark. The woman who emerges from this transformation is not the same as she once was. She is scarred, yes, but she is also whole in a way she has never been before. The darkness that once consumed her is now a part of her — a shadow that no longer controls her, but walks beside her. It is a reminder of where she has been, of the battles she has fought, and of the strength she has found within herself.

This is the paradox of the soul: to be whole, we must first be broken. The darkness within us, though it can destroy, also has the power to create. It is the catalyst for change, the crucible in which our true selves are formed. When we shed our skin, we are not abandoning who we were, but rather embracing who we have become. We are letting go of the pain that has defined us, allowing it to fall away like crumbling stone, so that the light within can finally be free.

In this moment of transformation, we are more than just survivors — we are creators of our own destiny. We are beings of light, reborn from the ashes of our former selves, whole and complete in our imperfection. This is the beauty of the soul: that no matter how deep the darkness, no matter how heavy the burden, we always have the power to break free. We always have the power to shed our skin, to let the light within us shine, and to be whole again.