In the silence where shadows gather,
once a cradle rocked with dreams,
woven whispers unfurl like lost leaves,
the heartbeat of hope drowned in the abyss.

Was it here, amidst the fabric of dusk,
where laughter boiled like morning sun?
Abandonment wraps its cold fingers,
tight around remnants worn and weary.

O mournful cries of the untouched womb,
a hollow echo fills the air;
a tempest stirs within an empty chest,
each flutter a reminder of warmth now gone.

The soil beneath holds not birth but burial;
the tender shoots cling to their last breath,
searching for light in this desolate shade
through cracked foundations where no life trembles.

Compassion binds me to these broken roots,
as I stitch together phantom memories;
contentment lies buried beneath regrets,
shadows of what could never be born.

In this confessional space fraught with sorrow,
I stand witness to abandonment's stark embrace
a silent prayer swirls like fog through the night;
is there solace in surrender? Would it yield?

(from the works of Jason Carr)
© Jaycarr1971