The little boy has cloudy eyes, yet no tears ever fall. 

The little boy often hides his voice behind a faint smile. 

 

The little boy grew into an adventurer, 

Singing along with the howling storm, 

Fighting the thunder that echoed across the sky, 

Confronting the sun that burned the horizon. 

The little boy has bones of steel. 

The little boy could be anything those around him needed. 

 

The little boy is full of smiles, 

Greeting every soul he knows on the street. 

Children always catch his eye, 

With them, he weaves laughter from light words. 

 

Yet, the little boy often vanishes into shadows, 

Growing up without a father’s figure to guide his steps, 

His father left him when the world was still too vast for him. 

 

He would choose to hide when the rain came,

running to a secret corner,

trying to stay dry beneath the gray sky that drenched his heart.

He also prefers to be alone, away from the noise, 

Standing behind a door without walls, 

Letting the wind carry whispers he will never tell. 

 

I wonder, From whom did he learn to sing when the storm howled?

From whom did he learn to fight against the thunder that echoed in the sky?

From whom did he learn to confront the sun that burned the horizon?

I wonder, whose shoulder does he lean on when he's tired?

Does he have a friend, or just someone to soothe his soul?

He is too silent. 

 

To him, I say, "I am you, in another form, 

I will speak to you in your deepest silence,

And I will bring the sun when clouds veil your eyes." 

 

He is the most wondrous boy I have ever known, 

So wondrous, he binds my heart gently, not letting it go. 

I whisper to him, "Father, I won’t let you feel alone, 

Not even for a single second that passes by.

Sorry, I was too late to realize that you were a boy who grew up in solitude.”