TW: Neglect and Indifference, Depression and Existential Themes, Isolation and Loneliness, Mortality and Death
(Life's fragile thread, by those who've seen too much, Can seem indifferent, insignificant. Amid a weave of countless threads as such, Who'd notice if one broke, one life was spent? Would any care if one brief life was gone, A single thread cut short, a tale undone?)
Beneath the sky, I tremble on the bough,
A leaf of green, now turning gold and brown.
My life, ephemeral, a fleeting vow,
A whisper in the woods, a soft renown.
I flutter in the wind, so wild and free,
Yet anchored to this branch, my tethered home.
In summer's warmth, I bask in gaiety,
But autumn calls, and I am left alone.
A journey brief, from green to golden hue,
To drift and fall, a tapestry unwound.
My worth, a moment's splendor, swiftly through,
Then cast aside, forgotten on the ground.
As passersby, indifferent, step on me,
Their eyes don't see the beauty in my death.
In mirrored lives of those who ceased to be,
Who lost their will, and breathe a hollow breath.
They see in me a symbol of their plight,
A single leaf, unnoticed and unseen.
To them, the world has lost its vibrant light,
And life, like mine, is fragile and routine.
Yet in my fall, a quiet truth is found,
A cycle that renews with every spring.
In death, I nourish earth and roots unbound,
A silent promise of what life can bring.
So though I lie, a broken, fallen leaf,
A story trampled under heedless feet,
Know that within my transient, brief belief,
Life's essence flows, in every heart's faint beat.
YOU ARE READING
Echoes of the Unspoken
PoetryHere lies a collection of poems, scattered like leaves, shared in the hope that someone might find solace and know they are not alone in their turmoil. Beware, for these poems are not for the faint of heart; they arise from the darkest recesses of m...
