Unraveling Grief
Lapsed and relapsed,
a pattern familiar, like an old habit —
starts as a bit of fun,
soon, an all-consuming need,
addiction in the guise of grief.
Dependance, it cuts deep,
not caring about the dreams,
leaving hope thin and worn,
and colors of joy faded,
relentless in its path.
Yet, in this weave of sorrow,
there’s a chance —
slowly opening up,
from the tight clasp of past,
towards a brighter future.
In the tangle of loss,
a quiet battle goes on,
where hope wrestles despair,
slowly moving,
towards dawn’s faint whisper.
Let go, it whispers,
join the dance of creation,
where free souls roam,
painting new dreams
under open skies.
The sky doesn’t ask for perfection,
but for authentic strokes
of free hearts,
beating in sync with the now,
always changing, always free.
Stars await, wide and welcoming,
a place for healing hearts,
because every tear tells a story,
and every effort is a new start,
in this big, endless world.
