Shadows of the Past

In the hollow of night, where silence reigns,

I trace the scars of old, familiar pains.

The echoes of a life I thought I knew,

Resurface in the dark, and I feel the bruise.

The dreams I chased with desperate hands,

Crumble like dust, slip through the sands.

Promises made in the heat of hope,

Now hang like frayed ends of a broken rope.

I see the faces of those I’ve lost,

Their absence a reminder of the cost.

Of choices made, of paths untaken,

Of words unsaid, and hearts forsaken.

The laughter once shared, now distant and cold,

A memory that time can’t seem to hold.

And love, that once burned bright and pure,

Now feels like a wound, no balm can cure.

The truth is sharp, it cuts like glass,

That all things fade, that nothing lasts.

We carry the weight of what we’ve done,

And bear the burden of battles won.

But in the quiet, there’s no escape,

From the shadows that the past creates.

They linger, they taunt, they pull me near,

Reminding me of every fear.

Yet still I stand, though bruised and bent,

A testament to time well-spent.

For pain, though deep, has shaped my soul,

And through the cracks, the light still rolls.

So, I embrace the dark, the hurt, the ache,

Knowing that it’s more than I can take.

For in the depths, I find my core,

A fragile heart that beats once more.