The Whisper Between Joy and Sadness

Through the dreamy repetition of "life finds a way", I wanted to express how even the most tangled and confusing emotions push forward, growing quietly in the spaces between knowing and longing.

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A veil of ash draped her shoulders,

woven from dreams no hand could untangle.

She walked through the hollow spaces

between breath and silence,

between knowing and forgetting,

her footsteps scattering embers like stray stars.

Life finds a way,

even in the withered cracks of longing.

The tangle of her hair burned with forgotten suns,

each strand a thread of things unsaid—

a tapestry stitched by those who once believed

in something brighter than the dusk.

Life finds a way,

even as joy and sadness pour together,

an old, bitter wine.

Her face was a sculpture of patience,

her lips carrying the ghost of a smile—

or perhaps a warning.

The world curled around her, uncertain,

as if afraid to touch her skin,

afraid to know the end of her story.

Life finds a way,

even in the hollow echo of unspoken prayers.

I watched from behind a misted window,

my own hands pressed against the cold glass,

trying to catch the warmth of her passing.

The veil rippled once,

a slow farewell,

or maybe an invitation.

Life finds a way,

it murmured in the trembling dark,

and I could not tell if it was hope

or a dirge.

In the end, she vanished into herself,

a flicker, a tangle, a silent ember

carried away by the sigh of all things forgotten—

but not gone.

Life finds a way.