In the quiet corners of a dim-lit room, I sit, marooned in shadows of yesterday, where once her voice, a soothing balm, wrapped around me like a soft embrace, now echoes faintly now just a whisper lost in the wind

Mother’s prayers, frayed threads of hope, float like autumn leaves, now drifting far from the branches, untethered, unclaimed, each one a testament to the love that filled the air today a hollow echo, a lonely reminder of what was, and what can never be again

I feel the emptiness, a cavernous ache in my chest, the damnable pain of a soul, unmoored, adrift in a sea of death searching for love, seeking warmth, where once there was laughter, now only silence, a void that stretches, devouring the light

Man, oh man, the weight of solitude is heavy, each heartbeat a question, a plea whispered into the dark- “Why can’t someone love me, help me heal this fractured heart, mend the seams of sorrow,  with a gentle touch, a kind word?”

Yet still, I rise, amidst the ruins of grief, with fragile hope, that somewhere, somehow, love will find its way back, to lift me from this abyss someone to stitch together the broken pieces, so, I may feel again, the warmth of a hand to hold, the embrace of a heart that understands