I remember it still, that sorrowful year,
When life turned into my greatest fear,
The exact moment, time, and place,
Where hope seemed lost, without a trace.
A testament to despair, a glaring reality,
Isn't it tragic, this cruel causality?
How everything inside must shatter and break,
To stand on the edge, for desolation's sake.
Enveloped in darkness, void of light,
Longing for solace, yet none in sight,
Each morning, a struggle, each waking, a dread,
The empty ache of wanting to stay in bed.
When pain's relentless echo becomes your voice,
And you're convinced, there's no other choice,
When the act of living, turns into a strife,
And you no longer understand what it means to be alive.
It's not the wanting of death, but the yearning for peace,
For the constant turmoil, the hurt, to cease,
A surrender to despair, a resignation from the fight,
A desperate cry in the cold, bleak night.
But remember, my friend, in your darkest hour,
Even the weakest stem can bloom into a flower,
For life, though harsh, holds promise yet,
And hope, though dimmed, is never truly set.
YOU ARE READING
Whispers of the Soul: A Symphony of Verses
Poetry"Whispers of the Soul: A Symphony of Verses" is a poetic masterpiece that delves into the depths of human emotions and experiences through the art of verse. This collection of poems resonates with the reader on a profound level, capturing the essenc...
