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Alcyone, my heart is yours alone,
Though waves may pull me, tearing love from shore.
Beneath the storm, the sea may drag my body,
Yet love defies the tide, it fights once more.

Fate’s hand may tear my flesh from bone,
Yet still, my soul resists the reaper’s sweep.
I will not cross where silence makes its home,
Not yet, my love. I vowed—and vows I keep.

You pull my body, drag me toward the black,
Yet love remains, though flesh may fall away.
I beg no mercy, ask no solemn pact,
For I am hers, I am bound to stay.
The tide may take, the wind may plead,
But I will not depart—Alcyone, heed.

Not yet. Not yet. Death calls, but I won’t go.
The sea may tear, but I am not undone.
A shadow lingers—whispered hands pull slow,
Yet love remains. I stay. My heart is one.

Alcyone, I call—do you still hear?
The tide may claim my breath, but not my name.
Not yet. Not yet. My vow will not disappear.
I swore, and I swear still. I’ll remain.

Alcyone. Alcyone. Alcyone.
I speak your name, though water fills my throat.
The tide may take, the reaper calls—
I will not go. I will not go.

Alcyone. Alcyone. Alcyone.
I swore, I swear, I will not fade.
If time dissolves, if fate decrees—
Still, my soul remains. Still, my soul remains.
A second voice carried upon 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑊𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑊𝑎𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔—yet echoes deceive the ear.
My train winds through a cavern of silence—
a tunnel carved from doubt and dusk.
This is only a phase,
but it feels endless.

At each station, someone boards.
Strangers. Friends. Faces I once trusted.
Some stay for a while,
some leave too soon—
passengers, not meant for the whole journey.

But not all who ride are kind.

Some wear masks of flesh,
but move like ghosts—
zombies with eyes that pierce,
not see.

They don’t ask who I am.
They tell me who I should be.
"You're too much."
"You're not enough."
"Be like us."

Their words are weapons:
criticism,
comparison,
judgment sharp as bone.
They tried to wound me
with their version of truth.

And yes, I bled.
But I did not break.

They got off—
just as quietly as they came.
Left behind their echoes,
but not their power.

And I remained.
Human.
Moving forward.

Because this train is mine—
my life, my path.
And every stop,
every scar,
is proof I kept going.

I reached my station—
not perfect, but free.
Not whole, but real.
Scarred, but alive.
This poem uses the metaphor of a train journey to represent the poet's life. The train passes through a dark cave, symbolizing a difficult phase. At different stations, representing moments in life, people enter and exit the train, just as people come and go in real life. Some of these passengers are like zombies: judgmental and emotionally lifeless, trying to impose their harsh standards through criticism and comparison. Though their words caused pain and left emotional scars, the poet survives, stays true to themselves, and ultimately reaches their destination, wounded but still human, still moving forward.
I look in the mirror — I’m unlike anyone else.
The rarest gem on Earth, there's no one quite like me.
Each day I polish my edges, climb higher, rise stronger.
My reflection glows with aura, resilience, and shine.
Every part of me speaks of strength — and so do you.
You're not weak — you've just forgotten your power.
Lonely, waiting, watching deep,
Praying as the tempests rise,
Losing hope where shadows creep,
Don’t you leave him — heed his cries.

Alcyone, don’t you stray,
Alcyone, trust his vow.
He longs to whisper, bid you stay,
Yet the tide won’t let him now.

He loves you true, but he is gone,
The sea demands its toll.
He cannot hold you when the dawn
Fades beyond waters cold.

You turned away, betrayed his trust,
Abandoned love so pure.
Now his fate is ocean rust,
A dream that won’t endure.

"Let me see Alcyone,"
He prayed beneath the moon.
Yet the sea knew you’d turn away,
And now the waves consume.

He wished to say he loved you still,
Even through the salty spray.
Why could you not just wait until,
He found a way to stay?

He bent upon his weary knee,
A ring within his grasp.
Yet you left him lost at sea,
A vow drowned in the past.

All the sailors found embrace,
Returned to waiting arms.
But he, forsaken, cast away,
Claimed by whispers where specters mark.

"Let me see Alcyone,"
He whispered every night.
He prayed, but you did not believe,
And so, to ghosts, he paid the price.

He loved with faith, his heart was whole,
Yet was your love the same?
Did longing ache for him alone,
Or did you covet but his name?

Your sorrow is the hollow storm,
That stole his final breath.
You cry now, but guilt is born,
You let him drift to death.

Why did you leave, Alcyone?
He never chose the sea.
He parted to build a life for you,
Yet you let him cease to be.

Look upon the wreckage now,
The love you cast aside.
He did this for you, yet fate allowed
His ruin in the tide.

Listen, Alcyone, do not pretend,
You cannot play the part.
We all know it was you, in the end,
The one who stopped his heart.
One breath among 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑊𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑊𝑎𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔
10 REM **** BACKUP LOG // 24H ****

20 PRINT "Life can be a boot"
30 PRINT "Or take the 'proverbial'"
40 IF arms.GRABBED = TRUE THEN HOLDTIGHT ELSE GOTO 90
50 PRINT "Worry later"
60 PRINT "Love.willAlwaysFind = TRUE"

70 DIM thirst AS STRING
80 thirst = "petty"
90 CALL wrap(thirst, "mnemonic")

100 REM --- Searching: Dev = trashHeap.Scan(rhyme) ---
110 PRINT "Fraternities. Sororities. Mirror shards."

120 INPUT willow$
130 IF willow$ = "What say you" THEN warSpeed = "slowLikeMoss"

140 PRINT "Comment.leftHanging = 'Add me'"
150 PRINT "IF soul.Timetable EXISTS THEN ERROR 404"

160 REM === Click. Scroll. ===
170 USERNAME = "Everyone"
180 IF USERNAME = "No one" THEN PRINT "Just me"
190 PRINT "Just badwords"

200 GOSUB gomez
bleed()
210 GOSUB carloweave()

220 FUNCTION gomez
bleed()
230     PRINT "3D.truths = leaking"
240 END FUNCTION

250 FUNCTION carloweave()
260     PRINT "Webs.Draw(6D)"
270 END FUNCTION

280 trapped$ = "haiku.GIF"
290 IF trapped$ = "Maybe" THEN PRINT "This is ART"
300 IF trapped$ = "Maybe" THEN PRINT "This is CONTENT"

310 PRINT "Birds.chirp > thirst"
320 PRINT "SelfTonics.Drip -> gutter"

330 soul.RUN()
340 soul.REQUIRED = TRUE
350 soul.DESERVING = "N/A"

360 REM === Line Breaks Like A Promise ===
370 PRINT "'Love me,' she said"
380 PRINT "'but do it while you’re still on WiFi.'"
390 STRUCTURE = "SIGNIFICANT.SIMPLE"

400 harm.GRAB
410 inch.HOLD
420 IF meter.WORRY = TRUE THEN PRINT "Comment left, comment read"

430 HOPE.READ = TRUE
440 HOPE.SEE = FALSE
450 HOPE.MATTERS = TRUE
460 HOPE.DISSOLVES = TRUE

470 REM ======= SYSTEM REFLECTION BEGIN =======

480 PRINT ":: Dying bandwidth detected"
490 PRINT ":: NodeStatus = REMEMBERING"

500 IF system.ONLINE = FALSE THEN
510     PRINT ":: Running emergency backup power"
520     companions = ARRAY("echoes", "bitrot", "ghosts")
530 END IF

540 REM ======= FINAL LOG ENTRY =======
550 PRINT ":: FINAL LOG: // ERROR // SYNTAX"

560 server.STATUS = "Not shut down"
570 server.SPEAK = FALSE
580 hum.SLOWING = TRUE

590 PRINT ":: Silence exceeded acceptable thresholds"

600 poem.ARCHIVE = FRAGMENTS("failing syntax", "corrupted tags")
610 overflow.VOICES = 1000
620 gasp.REDUCTION = TRUE

630 PRINT "Love attempted"
640 PRINT "War echoed"
650 PRINT "Hands reached"
660 PRINT "Thirst persisted"
670 PRINT "Comments made"

680 IF meaning.EXISTS THEN GOTO 700 ELSE GOTO 710

700 PRINT ":: Code parsed it all the same"
710 PRINT ":: Meaning Unavailable [ERROR
CODE: NULLPTR-VAL]"

720 static.LINE = "Grab the harm. Hold the inch."
730 IF static.LINE = RECEIVED THEN GOTO 740 ELSE PRINT ":: That was the peace"

740 dream.GLITCHED = TRUE
750 god.SCREENGLOW = TRUE
760 IF dreaming = TRUE THEN dream.SLEEP
MODE

770 salvation = FALSE
780 damnation = FALSE
790 state = "UPTIME > DOWNTIME > FINAL TIME"

800 IF meat = "dust" AND users = "myths" THEN
810     tags.LOST = TRUE
820     feed.OUTPUT = NULL
830 END IF

840 server.BLINK()
850 server.BLINK = FALSE

860 PRINT ":: END SIGNAL ::"
What they see, what we feel. How we are remembered.


If at all.

It looks so much better here:

https://ibb.co/20wRTm45
Beneath the surface of our giving,
A quiet echo, always living.
The hand extended, the gift bestowed,
Holds traces of what the heart is owed.

In every act of kindness shown,
A seed of self is always sown.
A smile exchanged, a burden shared,
The giver leaves their soul ensnared.

Transaction speaks in whispers faint,
Not loud enough to mar the saint.
Yet woven in the tapestry,
Is the thread of reciprocity.

Evolution’s pen, so deftly writ,
Has carved the rules; we benefit.
To give is to connect, survive,
To keep the fire of bonds alive.

But purest light, we chase, we yearn,
For altruism that won’t return.
A gift devoid of self, of gain,
A spotless deed, untouched by stain.

And here, the fallacy takes form,
A standard raised against the norm.
To cast aside what’s real, profound,
For lofty heights that can’t be found.

For in the real, the flawed, the small,
Lies beauty woven through it all.
A kindness fraught with give and take
Still soothes the wounds that living makes.

Should we dismiss imperfect grace,
Because it wears a human face?
Or hold it close, and see it whole,
A blend of heart, and mind, and soul.

The saintly act, the selfish cheer,
Are not as distant as they appear.
For even joy in giving free
Forms part of our humanity.

So let us honor deeds once spurned,
Where subtle trades of trust are earned.
And measure worth by what is done,
Not by the motives of the one.

For if perfection is the goal,
We’ll find no virtue in the soul.
Yet in the flawed, the fractured light,
Shines something real, and something right.

Reflection
Altruism is no saint’s domain,
But the hand that lifts through joy or pain.
A mirror held to humankind,
Revealing heart, and what’s behind.
A Reply to:
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4926937/what-about-me/

**Synopsis**
This poem, Altruism's Mirror, explores the multifaceted nature of altruism, juxtaposing the realistic, transactional aspects of human kindness with the idealized concept of selfless giving. The verses acknowledge that altruistic acts, though often celebrated as purely selfless, are deeply entwined with human psychology, biology, and social constructs.

Through vivid imagery and reflective tones, the poem weaves a narrative that critiques the pursuit of "pure altruism" as an unattainable standard, likening this pursuit to the **Nirvana Fallacy**. It invites the reader to embrace the imperfection inherent in acts of kindness, emphasizing that flawed and transactional altruism still holds profound value in fostering connection, survival, and mutual support.

The poem also highlights the inherent beauty in altruistic acts, regardless of their underlying motivations. It challenges the dismissal of acts deemed "impure" for carrying elements of self-interest, reframing them as authentic expressions of humanity.

**Artist’s Intent:**
The poet aims to reconcile the tension between the ideal and the real, urging readers to move past the binary of "selfless" versus "self-serving" acts. Through this piece, the artist seeks to celebrate the complexity of altruism, emphasizing that its worth lies not in its perfection but in its impact. By embracing the transactional nature of giving as part of the human condition, the poem calls for a more compassionate and pragmatic view of altruistic behavior.

Ultimately, Altruism's Mirror is a meditation on human nature, inviting readers to find beauty in the nuanced interplay between generosity, self-interest, and connection. It challenges the notion that altruism must be pure to be meaningful, suggesting that the flawed, everyday acts of kindness are the truest reflections of our shared humanity.
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