My Story Poem by Spirit Music Hope

In the veiled realm of night, ominous reflections unfurl,
The day's tapestry unwound, a dance of shadows,
Moments of solace, when happiness blooms,
Defined simply as thoughts suspended, liberated.

Yet more oft than not, the day descends into despair,
Morning's breath tainted by suffocating tendrils,
Unseen shackles ensnaring, reasons elusive,
Bound in stagnation, unable to find respite.

Drawn into a vortex, a void of inertia,
Lost amidst fragmented thoughts and vacant gazes,
Frozen in time, adrift in an aimless realm,
A myriad shattered mirrors, reflecting self-divided.

Each crack, a fracture within, splintered fragments,
Embedded deep, piercing warmth of a fractured soul,
Blood flows, crimson rivers of excised pain,
Helplessly surrendering to the lacerating embrace.

Friends offer solace, yet the chasm remains,
An inability to blend, a weariness in explanation,
Lowering standards to banal topics, vapid discourse,
Sacrificing principles for acceptance, an untenable path.

No, I shall not descend to such depths,
I refuse to betray the tenets that shape my being,
This solitude, my choice, a self-imposed fate,
Thus, lamentation serves no purpose, for it is my own design.

Nevertheless, I do not complain, but rather ramble,
For the act of writing, a balm for my soul,
Yet irony lingers, as solace eludes me now,
Words, an extension of my essence, yet their healing touch wanes.

I write with a flicker of hope,
That someday, someone shall truly feel,
The symphony of my story, resonating deep,
For in these words, I yearn to bridge the unfathomable.