Missing half an hour

The clock strikes eight, a jarring chime,

But something's wrong, disjointed time.

My mind's a fog, a hazy blur,

A missing half hour, I can't assure.

The coffee's cold, untouched it sits,

The newspaper, unread, where it quits.

A nagging dread, a creeping fear,

Thirty lost minutes, unaccounted, unclear.

Was it a dream, so vivid and real?

Or something darker, a memory I conceal?

Did I wander, lost in thought's embrace?

Or fall victim to a time warp's misplaced space?

The silence mocks, the room feels tight,

Searching for answers, in the fading light.

Did I speak to someone, a stranger's face?

Or witness something, I can't embrace?

The half hour gapes, a hungry maw,

Swallowing moments, defying the law.

Panic rises, a tightening knot,

Is this a portent, a thing I forgot?

Fingertips trace a calendar's square,

The date is certain, the time beyond compare.

But the missing minutes, a phantom limb,

Haunt the space between, a memory dim.

Did time itself, take an unexpected turn?

Or did my mind, some knowledge spurn?

A cryptic message, hidden in the void,

Leaving me stranded, with questions deployed.

Fear paints scenarios, dark and dire,

A car accident, a sudden fire.

But logic whispers, a calming plea,

Perhaps a simple lapse, a memory set free.

I search for clues, a thread to unwind,

A misplaced object, a piece of my mind.

The phone untouched, no missed calls to find,

Just the chilling silence, of the empty kind.

Was it a seizure, a momentary lapse?

A medical mystery, a memory's collapse?

The doctor's gaze, a puzzled frown,

No explanation, to be readily found.

Days turn to weeks, the weight remains,

A nagging question, etched in my veins.

The missing half hour, a constant ache,

A piece of my life, forever at stake.

But slowly, acceptance, a fragile bloom,

Perhaps it's best, left in the tomb.

For some things are better, left unknown,

Memories buried, a seed to be sown.

I learn to live, with the time's unknown space,

A testament to life's unpredictable pace.

The missing half hour, a lingering scar,

A reminder of the unknown, near and far.

But life goes on, the sun still ascends,

And in the present, my focus transcends.

For even in loss, there's beauty to find,

A strength that emerges, a peace of mind.

The missing half hour, a mystery untold,

A story unwritten, forever unfolds.

But in the gaps, in the space between,

Lies the power of acceptance, a life evergreen.