Letting Go, Holding On

“Move on,” they say — just two small words,
But heavy as the flight of birds
That soar away from broken trees,
To chase the winds, escape the freeze.

He holds the past in glowing red,
Each beat a name, each pulse unsaid.
It’s not the letting go that aches,
It’s all the echoes love still makes.

We say goodbye without a sound,
Yet memories still hang around.
The heart, though cracked, still dares to beat,
Still dreams of faces it won’t meet.

But healing starts with just one breath,
A step beyond the fear of death —
Of dreams that fade, of tears once shed,
Of all the words we left unsaid.

So here he stands — not weak, but brave,
A silent storm he chose to face.
For letting go is not the end,
It’s where the lost begin to mend.