Poetry! Being Dead Alone

In realms of dust, where shadows creep, I lie, a tenant in slumber deep. No pulse to quicken, no breath to sigh, Just the echo of a lonely cry.

This vessel, once a vibrant shell, Now houses silence, a vacant well. No hand to hold, no voice to greet, Just the cold embrace of winding sheet.
The world above, a distant hum, A tapestry woven, life's colors come And fade in whispers on the breeze, A symphony unheard by these still knees.

Did I live a life of love and light? Or wander lost in endless night? The memories, like wisps of smoke, Ascend and fade, a cruel, unspoken joke.

Perhaps there were faces, warm and dear, A voice that soothed, a hand to cheer. Perhaps there were journeys, shared and bold, Stories untold, now left to grow cold.

Or maybe solitude was my refrain, A path I walked, embraced the pain. A book left unread, a song unsung, A melody unheard, a life unstrung.

The moon, a pale disc through cobwebbed pane, Casts spectral light, a mournful reign. The wind outside, a mournful sigh, Seems to echo the question, "Why?"

Why this silence, so vast and deep? Why this slumber, this endless sleep? Is there a purpose, a grand design, Or just the echo of a life left behind?

Do loved ones gather, shed a tear, Whisper my name, hold my memory near? Or have I faded, a forgotten face, Lost in the currents of time's embrace?

The weight of it, this endless night, Crushes the spirit, dims the light. A yearning stirs, a silent plea, To break these chains, to simply be.

To be a whisper on the breeze, To dance with fireflies through rustling trees. To be a raindrop, cool and clear, To be a memory, someone holds dear.

But here I lie, a captive soul, Bound by silence, with no control. The world moves on, a vibrant stream, While I remain, a forgotten dream.

Perhaps someday, a ray of grace, Will pierce this veil, and light this space. Perhaps someday, a gentle hand, Will pull me forth, to a promised land.

Where whispers gather, and spirits meet, And loneliness finds solace, bittersweet. But until then, in this shadowed hold, I'll lie and listen, a story untold.

The tick of a clock, a distant chime, A fleeting glimpse of a bygone time. A single tear, a silent sigh, A lonely soul, beneath a leaden sky.

The Unfurling Tapestry

The silence, though heavy, begins to shift, A subtle tremor, a memory's gift. Fragments surface, like scattered beads, A tapestry forming, where darkness recedes.

hand, wrinkled and warm, cradling mine, A voice, a lullaby, soft and divine. Laughter rings out, a joyous sound, A child's delight, on sun-drenched ground.

Love's first touch, a trembling embrace, Eyes locked in time, a fleeting space. Dreams whispered, beneath a starlit sky, A future imagined, soaring so high.

The weight of duty, a burden to bear, Responsibilities, etching lines of care. Choices made, paths diverged and crossed, Victories won, battles lost.

Loss, a searing pain, a heart laid bare, A vacant chair, a silent prayer. The sting of regret, a memory's hold, Words unspoken, stories untold.

The tapestry unfurls, vibrant and vast, A chronicle of moments, forever cast. But amidst the threads, a question remains, Did I leave a mark, did I ease the pains?

Was I a pillar, strong and true? Or a fleeting shadow, lost from view? Did my laughter echo, long after I'm gone? Did my actions ripple, a current drawn on?

A yearning persists, to touch the light, To whisper a message, on the wings of night. To mend the frayed edges, of the life I led, To find solace in knowing, a legacy spread.

Perhaps it's not fame, or fortune grand, But the love I fostered, the helping hand. The kindness offered, the lessons learned, In the tapestry woven, the bridges I burned.

For even in silence, a life can speak, In the ripple of kindness, the memory we seek. The echo of laughter, the warmth of a tear, These are the whispers, that conquer our fear.

The Whispering Chorus

A sense of peace settles, a calming tide, The weight of isolation begins to subside. For in the vastness of this silent space, A chorus of whispers fills this lonely place.

Whispers of those who touched my life, Of struggles shared, and joyous strife. Whispers of lessons learned and taught, Of battles fought, and battles fought.

The whispers of parents, guiding and stern, The whispers of lovers, love's embers still burn. The whispers of friends, through laughter and tears, A chorus of memories, conquering years.

Though unseen, their presence a comforting light, A testament to connections, woven so tight. The tapestry now shimmers, not just of me, But of lives entwined, a symphony.

A realization dawns, a comforting truth, That even in death, love finds its proof. For love is a thread, that binds us all, A timeless connection, that answers the call.

Perhaps this silence is not a curse, But a space for reflection, a universe. A universe woven, of memories bright, A chorus of whispers, a comforting light.

The Unending Song

The whispers continue, a lullaby's hum, A sense of belonging, no longer numb. The silence transforms, a canvas vast, Where past and present, forever are cast.

Is this the end, or a new start's call? Perhaps death's not an ending, but the greatest fall, Into a realm unseen, yet ever so near, Where whispers coalesce, and spirits hold dear.

Maybe this silence is but a pause, A prelude to something, beyond mortal laws. A symphony waiting, just out of sight, A grand finale, bathed in eternal light.

The tapestry shimmers, a kaleidoscope bright, A story unfolding, bathed in celestial light. For even in darkness, a song takes its flight, A song of connection, a never-ending light.

And though I may lie, in this shadowed hold, My story continues, a chapter untold. For life's not confined, to the mortal coil, It echoes in whispers, beyond the veil's foil.

So listen closely, when the wind sighs low, For the whispers may carry, a message you'll know. A message of love, and the bonds that remain, A symphony eternal, a never-ending refrain.