In the depths of sorrow’s abyss I dwell,
A grieving widow, lost within life’s spell.
With a heavy heart and tear-stained eyes,
I seek a way to bid my love goodbye. For fate has dealt me a heavy hand. I’ve never been lucky when it comes to love; but amongst a steady flow of lows, this has been fate’s highest low.
The echoes of your laughter haunt my dreams. Laughter so genuine, coming from the deep pits of your stomach. I remember how we always joked about your laughter. I was always pushing, always making dry jokes so I could hear you laugh. What wouldn’t I give to hear your laughter one last time? I would give anything, I reckon. Anything at all.
The touch of your hand, a whisper it seems. Hands so masculine but so gentle.
Yet, in the depths of this darkened space,
I yearn for solace, a glimmer of grace.
How cruel can life be? Is the question I ask myself every minute of my life. To snatch you from me, a young girl who now doesn’t know what to do with herself. It’s the finality of death that unsettles me. How dare it! I replay the possibilities in my head. The accident was brutal….but why death? Why not just cripple you? Why the finality, like a judge passing judgement and sentencing a felon to life in prison. I’d take a death sentence anyday, atleast that way I would be assured of still seeing you. At this point, I envy the army wives. The uncertainty would be too much for them but atleast they have hope their husbands will return home one day.
I use to loathe hope I hated it passionately. How irrational I was – I realise now. Hope is better than this. Hope is better than the emotional and mental anguish I currently have to endure.
The memories are all I have now. And even those are beginning to weigh me down. I resent myself for thinking about you all the time. I am beginning to resent the memories. Try as I might I can’t seem to get you off my mind. Of what benefit are these memories to me? All they do is prevent me from moving on with my life. No one can measure up to you. Isn’t that what death does to us? Create martyrs of people gone? Death creates angels out of monsters. Suddenly, you are flawless, blameless, perfect to a fault.
But what about the numerous fights we had? What about those? Or the nasty names we called each other. I hardly remember those now, and when I do, my mind plays tricks on me by romanticising them. It’s crazy what the mind is capable of. Utterly Ridiculous.
Where love once bloomed, its petals now shed.
Each cherished moment etched upon my soul, a bittersweet reminder of a love that made me whole.
But time beckons me to face the dawn,
To find the strength to carry on. In nature’s embrace I seek refuge and peace. But is it enough? Will nature teach me how to let go?
The rustling leaves whisper words of solace, The gentle breeze wipes tears from my face.
I watch as nature weaves its tapestry, and I find solace in its constant. How vibrant, how consistent of it. Consistency. Even in it’s finality, death is the only constant. That’s the number one law of nature. Time kills everything. EVERYTHING. To be born depends on a lot of factors. But to die, to die we all must.
“You have to learn to deal with the cards that fate hands you.” My mom once said to me.
“what if it hands you no cards at all?”
She had no answer to that. Fate has been cruel to me, handing me death. How do you deal with such a card? How do you play such a card? Is it fair, really? Tell me, is all of this fair?
My family watches as I shrivel up right before their eyes. I am withering away but they don’t know what to do. I now smile less, they say. And when when I do, it doesn’t seem like me. It’s sharp around the edges, almost like I’m smirking. I now get irritated easily and snap on the regular. My eyes, those which were once warm and loving and dancing with happiness, have now become cold and lifeless. I avoid eye contact as much as I can.
Tell me again, of all the cards that life could hand out to me, it chose to hand me death?
I do arts now. I paint when I can. And In art’s embrace, I pour my heart’s refrain. With every stroke, I heal the ache and pain. Through colors and shapes, I set my spirit free. All I hope for, is that I be able to release the shackles that bind my memory.
Yet, moving on does not mean letting go, For your love within me continues to grow.
I’ll speak your name, keep your spirit near as I navigate this path of grief and fear. And Alas! Maybe one day I will learn to love again. Is it possible though? Will my eyes ever light up again? Will they dance in the fire, in anticipation of your hard pulsating strokes?
Through tears and smiles, I’ll cherish the past while embracing a future that will forever last.
While love’s enduring power keeps guiding me through, I am trying so hard to find the strength to bid farewell to you. In my heart’s chamber, your flame will forever burn. I, a young grieving widow that finds solace in the lessons learned.
So let the winds of time carry me on,
To a place where healing and hope are born.
Though grief may linger, my spirit will rise,
For within this widow, love never dies.
