The Unrooted

 

Once I was a tender sprout, born from the seed,
A whisper of potential, a promise to grow.
Dreams unfurled like emerald leaves in spring,
Vivid and fragile, shimmering with hope’s glow.  

A fragile hope, reaching toward the sun,
Yearning for light, for warmth, for life’s embrace.
But as the days passed, the shadows crept near,
And now, those dreams have withered, fallen, undone—  
Like leaves torn from branches by the cold wind,
Fading into the silence of the passing seasons.

A breathless ache beneath the surface—
A longing for what once was, now just memories’ reasons.  
Rain poured down—a blessing, a divine shower—
Nurturing the soil, quenching the thirst of earth.
Yet still, I felt the dryness, the silent hour,
A parched soul longing for rebirth, for mirth. 
 
The earth was rich, a nurturing embrace,
A cradle of promise, a space to renew.
But somehow, I lost my sacred place—
A seedling that struggled, with roots untrue.  

Perhaps I became a hardened, leafless tree,
Bark scarred by storms, branches bowed in despair.
Or a jasmine vine, without a sturdy tree—
Without support, I drifted, lost in the air.  

No roots to hold, no support to sustain,
Just drifting in the wind of silent pain.
A hollow echo of what I used to be,
A shadow wandering in the vast, empty plain.  

In the grip of my restless, wandering mind,
My warmth faded—what did I leave behind?
Memories flicker like dying stars—
A flickering hope that never truly mars.  

There is a deep, unspoken ache—
A wound that time cannot completely heal.
Yet I smile, for hope refuses to break—
A fragile resilience I still can feel.  

Faces pass like fleeting shadows, stories unfold,
Each life unique, each story told.
In the crowd of countless lives—so vast, so wide—
I stand here silent, watching, yet cast aside.  

Amidst the multitude, I stand alone—
A silent witness, a drifting stone.
No longer rooted, no longer seen,
A life without a story, lost in between.  

Yet in this quiet emptiness, I find—
The echo of a hope I leave behind—
A whisper of dawn in the depths of night,
A faint promise that someday, I’ll find my ligh

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