I learned to run with hurried feet,
chasing horizons made of fire—
the wind behind me,
no hand beside me,
only the echo of my own desire.
But speed is a lonely kingdom;
its crown is made of fleeting light.
The miles I won
felt small and hollow,
vanishing into the night.
Then one day, footsteps joined mine—
slow, steady, warm like earth.
Their rhythm taught me
the quiet courage
of walking side by side from birth.
Together we crossed wider lands,
valleys I never dared before;
For a shared journey
plants deeper roots,
and every mile becomes something more.
Alone I went fast—
I flew, I fell, I ran in haste;
But with others,
I discovered distance,
and no dream was ever lost to waste.
For far is a place
where hearts move in circles,
not lines drawn sharp and thin.
And the road grows gentle
when many voices
rise and travel from within.
Let me run with the world now—
not first, not alone,
but strong and together;
For fast is a moment,
and far is forever.
