Prayer for your freedom - part two

And then I heard the truth.  

That he’s trapped in something he never chose.  

Something he wants to be free from,  

but there’s no backing out.  

My heart broke the moment I knew.  

I cried for him  for a person who has never met me,  

but who has met me in the dark,  

through headphones and late nights.

I prayed for him with my tears.  

Whispered his name into the quiet,  

asked the universe to soften whatever is holding him.  

Because how can a voice that gives so much peace  be carrying so much weight?

I feel like I need to be there for him in his lonely time.  

Even though he doesn’t know me.  

Even though he’ll never read this.  

I want him to know, somehow,  

that out here,  

someone is listening,  

someone is rooting,  

someone is holding space for him.

So I’ll keep playing his songs.  

I’ll keep letting his voice cool the fire in me  

and warm the cold places too.  

I’ll keep hoping loudly, quietly 

that freedom finds him soon.  

That the world loosens its grip,  

and lets him breathe again.

Because the world needs his voice free.  

And I need him to know  

that he is loved far beyond the music.  

That he matters.  

That he is not alone.