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Through the years, I’ve walked a path,
Lined with echoes of silent wrath,
In my lifetime, I’ve seen the pain,
Felt the losses, the little gain.
I’ve watched the leaves fall and die,
Underneath the vast, indifferent sky,
And with each one, a hope departs,
Leaving barren the garden of hearts.
Through my lifetime, I’ve heard the cries,
Of broken dreams, under heavy skies,
Where tears fall like relentless rain,
And every smile hides a strain.
Yet in this pain, there’s a truth untold,
In the stories of the young and old,
That even in moments, stark and drained,
There’s a beauty in what’s remained.
For every tear that’s ever shed,
Is a testament to the love we’ve spread,
And though it seems nothing’s gained,
In our hearts, these marks remained.
So let this poem be a gentle plea,
To see the growth from a fallen tree,
For in our pain, we are not alone,
It’s a shared ache, in the marrow, the bone.
And though the night may seem unkind,
Remember the light that’s left behind,
For even in the darkest, starless night,
The dawn will come, with new light.
So weep, if you must, let the tears flow,
But hold fast to the warmth you know,
For through the pain, through the strife,
There’s a pulse, a beat, the drum of life.
And in this lifetime, though hard it seems,
We’ll find our peace, in broken dreams,
For every end is but a start,
A chance to heal, a chance to part.
With every tear, let there be a seed,
Of hope, of love, of the will to lead,
A life that’s full, though touched by pain,
A life where love is the ultimate gain.
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