Alone?

Am I alone or merely standing in the echo of my own soul,

Where the silence speaks louder than any voice could ever unfold?

I reach out, yet the world feels distant, a blur of faces and unknown skies,

A paradox where connection slips through my grasp, while emptiness multiplies.

I search for meaning in the spaces between breaths,

For a touch that lingers, a presence that resists the pull of death.

But here I am, alone or maybe just in search of me,

A traveler in my mind, questioning what's on the shelf.

Is it solitude that haunts me, or the fear of never being seen?

For in the quiet, I find a reflection, sometimes beautiful, sometimes unseen.

Alone? Maybe-but in this space, I am both lost and found,

A fleeting existence, yet in my solitude, I am profound.