How am I expected to heal, I cry,
When pain is the only truth, a shadow that won’t die?
I feel like a crumbling building, weathered and worn,
Once a shelter in storms, now tattered and torn.

Each breath is heavy, a struggle to face,
As sorrow wraps tight, an unyielding embrace.
I’ve stood in the tempest, absorbing the blows,
Yet now, in the stillness, my emptiness grows.
The light that I offered, a beacon so bright,
Has dimmed to a flicker, swallowed by night.

Like a blind man’s cane, I’ve been used...