Echoes of the Past: Mantra of the Broken

This piece of work is a soulful exploration of emotions, crafted in the form of confessional lyric poetry. It encapsulates feelings of solitude, yearning, and sorrow, serving as a mirror to my internal state. The text is my attempt at vocalizing the intensity of a past relationship that was filled with intellectual, emotional, and sensual resonance. Each line of the poem stands as a testament to a profound connection I once shared, as I try to navigate my journey of detachment and self-healing. It's an intimate portrayal of heartache, intended to be not only a cathartic release for myself, but also a beacon for others navigating similar emotional landscapes.
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I don't miss you any more,
As seasons change and winds blow.
In the sea of time I've spent, you're a distant shore,
Don't wait for me, for my pace is slow.

I am still a prisoner of my fate,
Stranded, awaiting the dawn's first light.
I am a song yet to be sung, filled with latent weight,
An echo in the silence of the night.

Please don't leave me behind,
For I'm still tethered to today.
An anchor-less boat, in turmoil, you'll find,
In the relentless waves of life, a castaway.

I'm broken and don't know why,
Fragments of past in the wind do flutter.
I don't remember and can’t forget, a paradox, a sigh,
A quiet whisper in the world's loud clutter.

I don’t miss you, a refrain in my heart,
To shield myself from pain's sharp dart.
To live freely, without slipping away,
In pursuit of a tranquil day where my soul can play.

Maybe I could sleep, a moment of calm,
In a world where all days look alike, a soothing balm.
Maybe I'll find a dream, one that doesn't cry,
A dream that soothes, not a lullaby of goodbye.

I don't miss you, a statement, a creed,
An affirmation to my wounded heart's plead.
I'm still holding on to a past, far away,
Time erodes memory, yet it seems to stay.

A day may be just six hours, but it's still joyful,
Life's bitter sweetness, in moments, is bountiful.
My eyes chase after the scent of tears,
In pursuit of echoes of forgotten years.

I'm alone in the midst of a crowd,
A solitary figure, in loneliness, shroud.
Anxiety, a veil over my senses,
A relentless warden over unseen fences.

Like an orphan on Christmas Eve,
Stranded in joy that I cannot conceive.
I don't miss you, I chant in the silence,
A mantra to navigate my soul's resilience.

Sega