Through smoldering depths, I drift, I roam,
No map, no guide, no tethered home.
The air is ash, the ground is flame,
Yet still, a whisper calls my name.

Neither torment, nor of fear,
But a melody, so faint yet clear.
A thread of gold through endless black,
A voice that bids me not look back.

The skeletons leer, their sockets glow,
They smirk and mock like a practiced show.
The devil mocks a casual "Hi,"
As though he waits for me to cry.
But I just nod, and keep my pace,
For Hope outshines their hollow face.

The shadows stretch, they pull, they cling,
Yet in my chest, a brighter thing.
It hums, it glows, a fragile might,
A tiny star in eternal night.

Each step is heavy, yet none in vain,
For even here, there's more than pain.
The fire burns, but so does will,
And Hope walks with me, silent but still.

It leads me forward, hand in hand,
Through a broken, barren land.
A soul's soft light, though bruised, can mend,
For every journey finds its own end.

Hell rages, and darkness swell,
But Hope cracks the toughest shell.
For in this heart, it softly sings,
A soul's fire can forge its own wings.