She arrived into my world, with colors like the bloom of spring,
A promise of snugness, the delight she could bring,
I watched her flourish, so vibrant and bright,
Yet I lingered in doubt, too sightless to clasp flight.

Her presence like summer, so vital and full of  delight,
But autumn crept in, stealing days from my sight,
I hesitated long and the colors slowly turned gray,
And then winter came, found me with nothing to say.

I now feel the nip of the love I let go,
Regret like the frost, biting deep in the snow,
She was a whole universe, still I took excessive time,
A season now gone, a mountain to climb.

Left shattered by a voyage so fleeting,
with echoes of could-have-beens and might-have-beens,
a life yet to be lived,
etched indelibly upon the canvas of my mind.

A plethora of unanswered riddles linger,
questioning my place in your heart,
while I convince myself that it's but water under the bridge.

Yet in my dreams, you reappear,
as if time’s fabric has unraveled,
and in another existence, we are eternally entwined.

To you, I was a sealed tome, a fact I now lament,
for I remained ensconced in my cocoon,
paralyzed by an untamable dread,
failing to unfurl my love’s true essence.

Gradually, I endeavored on this journey,
only to find myself adrift,
but was I ever truly yours?
Slowly, the vessel of our connection foundered.

As days pass, so too does hope wane,
of salvaging a course gone astray,
and you remain blind to my plea for rescue, deaf to my silent cries,
for your pride is your deity, or perhaps, so entwined with love's illusion.

I was left shattered, yet still hopeful,
Like trying to sip wine from a glass in pieces,
Longing for your return,
Hoping you’d choose to come back,
Like waiting for the sun to rise in the west.

But you thrived in your freedom,
Separation became your joy,
Now, I realize it’s time,
Time to let go and rise again,
For I have touched the deepest depths,
Until there’s no room for more.

In my chamber, I lie wide awake,
As spectral phantoms return to haunt me,
Phantoms I cannot simply dismiss,
Is this the essence I have always known,
What I have held dear through the years?

In the wee hours of the night,
An existential tempest strikes with force:
Who am I, and what do I truly know?
With a fractured sense of self, I strive,
To gather my scattered thoughts.

But to what extent shall I reach?
What are the normative components?
For I sense the anguish of nihilism,
In its unfettered form,
Yet I still plod with it.

Thus, amidst the uncertainties,
I resolve to let them run their course,
Hoping that, little by little,
They may dwindle into the depths of oblivion.