It Shall Be Well
Fondo, head hung low, a storm in his eyes, Shoulders slumped, a weight that wouldn't rise. Masaki, with eyes that held both strength and grace, Sat beside him, a hand upon his face. "Everybody gotta cry once in a while," she said, Her voice a gentle stream, in his sorrow well-bred. "Tears are a cleansing, a letting go of pain, A storm that clears the skies, brings sunshine back again." Fondo sniffed, a tear escaped and traced a line, "But the rain keeps falling, Masaki, feels like a lifetime." A smile, a flicker, on Masaki's lips so wise, "Then let it pour, Fondo, let the storm cleanse your skies. But remember, even after the darkest night, The sun will rise again, bringing warmth and light." She squeezed his hand, a silent, steady beat, "How long to smile? Let time heal, make it complete. The sun will find you, even though clouds may roam, There's strength within you, Fondo, waiting to call you home." A flicker
