When I know, the silence will soften, and the questions that haunt me will finally sleep. No shadow will stretch longer than its hour, and doubt will loosen its grip from my chest.
When I know, the horizon will steady, not as a promise, but as a presence. I will no longer chase the vanishing sun, but rest in the glow it leaves behind.
When I know, love will not feel fragile, but vast, unshaken, unafraid of loss. It will flow through me like a river unending, teaching me that certainty is not heavy, but light.
When I know, I will not claim victory, only peace in the quiet of belonging. For knowledge is not the end of the journey, but the moment the journey becomes home.