PART 2: SILENCE, THEN GRIEF
The well is all dried up, nothing more to offer up
The bell that once tolled now hangs mute in the wind.
Bereft and hollow, grieving and hushed
The weight of it all pressing like Atlas beneath the world.
The cruelty of the fates—too sharp, too cruel to name.
Endless hours poured into toil and torment.
Labour pains with no child to cradle,
No reward, no legacy—just exhaustion and ache.
The biting critiques, the endless berating—
Cracks formed beneath the surface, silent and deep.
The pressure swelled, a volcano close to erupting
Now only ruins remain, cloaked in ash and silence.
No coin left to spare, no breath left to waste.
A dynasty of dreams—once regal, now crumbling.
Whispers made in shadowed closets, unheard
Blood, sweat, and tears—poured in silence, spent in vain.
The ambiguity festers in the abyss of my mind
I’d bargain, I’d sign – a pact sealed in red print
Just to delay the descent into this hollowed present.
But fate holds firm— there is no detour from despair.
Where do I go from here? The echo vehemently lingers
I’d dance with the devil in full Faustian style,
If only to flee this realm of ash and absence.
Yet I know—some roads offer no alternative, no reroute.
The season of cheer is here, but not dear to my heart
I envisioned a winter of snowmen and snowball fights
But now all I see is a teary-eyed snowman weeping
Eyes brimmed with gloom, coal eyes bleeding black.
The sleigh bells mock the countdown’s chime
Toward a year I already know will hollow me.
The New Year marches in; I follow, dragging my soul.
And I wonder—when I sleep, where do I go?
