The wind carries the scent unseen,
moving through streets and hearts,
some breathe deeply, filled with hope,
others recoil, disturbed by its touch,
yet the fragrance does not change.
A whisper in the crowded city,
a presence in the quiet field,
this aroma lingers in every place,
offering life to those who receive,
warning to those who refuse.
Truth moves without force,
it does not demand or bend,
but like incense in the air,
it reveals the state of the soul,
declaring light or deepening shadow.
The scent of sacrifice remains,
blood poured, love unshaken,
lingering in the hearts of those
who walk in step with mercy,
and carry its fragrance into the world.
No one untouched by its presence,
non indifferent to its call,
one moment draws a heart in,
another drives a soul away,
yet its power never fades.
It does not seek approval,
nor long for permission to stay,
it exists as it has always been,
a reminder, a call,
a touch of eternity on mortal air.
Some embrace and are made new,
finding life in its depth,
some curse and walk away,
choosing to live in shadows,
while the fragrance lingers still.
A presence that cannot be erased,
a truth that does not fade,
we carry its sweetness with us,
through streets, through silence,
into the hearts of those who breathe.