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The Haunting Search for the Lost

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Beneath a sky paved  bruised and heavy stone,  

I walk the fragile light rope all alone.  

The night may whisper doubts like winter wind,  

Through forests where the silent shadows grow.  

***

 Phantom weeds that choke the paths below,  

I seek the ghosts of those who chose to flight.  

Leaving my soul an ocean in the night,  

A silent tide that no one dares to know.  

***

My inner screen unmakes the dust of years,  

I see myself, a child devoid of fears-

Before the reel was warped by biting grief,  

Like winter frost that kills the budding flower.  

***

The bitter cold of loneliness may bite,  

Yet in that cold, I find my guiding light.  

Some memories decay like rusted steel,  

Leaving a hollow ache I cannot heal.  

***

While others cut like diamonds in my chest,  

Refusing to allow my heart to rest.  

I heave a sigh, a desolate refrain:  

"The past is dead and gone,

There is no use in dwelling on the dawn."  

***

But I’ll not bury fires that made me strong,  

The crucible where fractured souls belong.  

Beneath the silent stars’ unyielding gaze,  

I forge my spirit in the fire’s haze.  

***

Each scar a story, etched with fierce intent,  

A testament to battles fiercely fought.  

Though solitude can pierce me like a knife,  

It shapes the architecture of my life.  

***

They walked away like shadows from the sun,  

To prove my sovereign journey had begun.  

The weight of pain, a heavy, iron chain,  

Transforms to wings that lift me from the rain.  

***

So let the storms come crashing from the sky,  

My roots grow deeper, reaching high.  

Let the teardrop dry upon my cheek,  

I wake the fierce resilience that I seek.  

***

In the stillness of the forge’s glow,  

I find the strength I never knew I’d show-

For if I hold the fortitude to stride,  

No tempest can submerge my rising tide.  

A soul resilient, fierce, and numb.

***

I burn the tightrope that I walked in fear,

And drown the ghosts that held my spirit here.

The hands that dropped me shall not see me crawl;

I build an empire from the stones they let fall.

***

No longer weeping at a closed-locked door,

I am the tempest, I am something more.

Let them remember, as I touch the sky:

They gave me wings when they said goodbye.

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