I
At the edge of midnight’s shadow,
A storm without thunder unfolds—
Not of fists, but of words unspoken,
In the heart’s silent chamber it roars.
II
From the festal hearth I wandered,
Seeking solace in a distant room;
Among voices weaving night’s fabric,
I drifted to where silence bloomed.
III
A message pierced the quiet veil:
“Where does your spirit roam?”
I answered with the wind’s honesty,
Yet echoes summoned me back home.
IV
Upon return, the void awaited,
An absence masked as need;
The night wore on in hollow whispers,
Dawn arrived with a wounded seed.
V
Morning draped in veils of sorrow,
A mirror to the fractured sky;
Accusations like shadows lingered:
“Trust has withered, tell me why.”
VI
The ghosts of yesteryears awakened,
Phantoms of paths once trod;
Chains of the past she cast upon me,
Blind to the journey of my odyssey’s rod.
VII
I am the sum of miles behind me,
A traveler forged by time;
Cannot sever the roots that bind me,
Nor deny the mountain I’ve climbed.
VIII
Her gaze is fixed on trailing footprints,
Ignoring the road ahead;
Through the prism of bygone reflections,
The present fades, the future ebbs.
IX
O spirits, what forms a union?
Is it not a merging of souls?
Yet whispers call me to the solitude,
Where the river of my being flows.
X
I am no celestial being,
Just a pilgrim with earnest hands;
Condemned for thoughts unspoken,
While my deeds sow seeds in sands.
XI
Her world is walled in mistrust,
Insecurities entwine her heart;
What can mend a bond so tattered?
Where does healing even start?
XII
I yearn to lay down this burden,
To end the strife we weave;
In peace, I’ll seek the path before me,
Decide when it’s time to leave.
