In shadows deep, where sorrows creep, I find myself alone,
A world so vast, yet small to grasp, the place I once called home.
The weight of time, a silent crime, it pulls me to the ground,
And in the night, devoid of light, no solace can be found.
The echoes of the past replay, like whispers in the breeze,
They haunt my steps, they steal my breath, they bring me to my knees.
The dreams I held, they twist and fell, like leaves from autumn’s tree,
And all that’s left, a soul bereft, of what it used to be.
Yet through the pain, in coldest rain, I feel a flicker still,
A tiny spark, within the dark, defying every chill.
It’s not enough to bring me joy, or banish all my fears,
But like a ghost, it lingers close, and wipes away the tears.
For life, it seems, is cruel and mean, a game we cannot win,
The highs are brief, the lows so deep, the hope so paper-thin.
We build, we break, we bend, we ache, in cycles never done,
Yet in the fight, through endless night, we search to find the sun.
I’ve seen the light, in moments bright, where happiness once shone,
But just as fast, the joy would pass, and leave me on my own.
It’s bittersweet, the taste of feet, when walking such a line,
For every peak, there’s a defeat, that waits along the vine.
The laughter fades, the silence raids, and takes its place with ease,
And what is left, a heart bereft, just waiting for release.
Yet still I climb, through endless time, with hope that’s barely there,
For in the gloom, I know there’s room, for moments bright and rare.
But damned I feel, to spin the wheel, no matter what I choose,
The pain remains, the joy refrains, the world’s a jagged muse.
And yet, despite the endless fight, I carry on my way,
For though I fall, and lose it all, I’ll rise again one day.
The scars I bear, they show the wear, of battles lost and won,
They tell the tale, of how I failed, and yet I’m not undone.
For in each scar, there’s something far more precious than the pain,
A memory of what could be, if only I remain.
So here I stand, no master plan, just taking one more breath,
The road is long, the path is wrong, but it’s not over yet.
For in the end, when I descend, I’ll know I gave my all,
And that’s enough, through all the rough, to rise after the fall.
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reminds me of a favoured quote by Khalil Gibran…
“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.””
well expressed, John…🤍
Thank you very much, Destiny! 😎
pleasure, John 🤍
Wonderful Poem 👍🏻 Nicely written and expressed.
Thank you for your kind words. I greatly appreciate it. I hope you have a great night, Willie! 😎