Grief clouds the still air,
soul slipping like dusk to night,
silent and unseen.
Breadcrumbs of a heart’s ruin fall,
soft echoes of battles lost.

Her hands bore deep scars,
etched stories of wars within,
her own promises—
whispered truths soon cast away,
dragged beneath life’s cruel currents.

Anger’s storm now fades,
mirrors hold her shattered gaze.
The past calls
s
 o
f
t
l
y,
specters of what once had been,
laying flowers on the grave.

Blue skies pierce the soul,
mocking in their clarity.
Life blooms where I weep,
a seedling waits in the soil,
buried deep to rise again.