DOWN A WELL WORN PATH
Time flies on black wings.
Has it truly been 50 years since I have stood here, under the fallen sakura tree? Reminiscing about the petals that fall, dance, twirling to a song only they can hear. Falling onto the ground, the stream, dancing, singing, evaporating into the dark abyss that lurks beneath the peaceful mask. Ignorant to the harsh reality, the forgotten guide.
You used to gaze at them. Hours wasted. Thoughtful minutes of tranquility. Catching them in your hands. Smiling, always smiling at a secret locked away. I did not understand. Why stare at something that will always be here?
Year after year, it has stood, against the snowstorms, the rain. But time passed.
Year after year... after year. The bark peeled, cracked, fell. A pawn to the reality of life, victim to the cruelty of time.
Time.
Time took everything from me, all that I cared about. It strikes with a bittersweet vengeance that comes packaged in neat minutes, seconds, hours. Unsuspecting dots in history are brought down. Weak among the strong. Too late.
Too late.
Too late, too late. The melody of life stops for no one. The tragic notes silhouetted against the horizon, left by joy, by hope, by death.
Yet the rain still falls. Wet. Rivulets of pain gliding down a well-worn path. Sliding, pausing, finding peace in the blackness, the void of eternity. Giving up the chase, passing on with words of blessings, curses, silence.
Silence.
We will all walk down that road someday. Leaving, never looking back. For some, it is freedom, joy, happiness. Others are dragged down the winding trail, screaming, clawing, trying to break free. Their cries are not heard.
Life stops for no one.
You left without me. You slipped down the road of healing, into the russet dawn. Never looking back. You assured a promise that you knew will be broken. What good would it do? Time, our savior, our teacher, our friend, held the black blade behind you. The sharp pinprick of pain resurfaces, a reminder of promises broken, opportunities spent.
Defeated, faded, bent.
I remember your tears, your sorrow as you waved goodbye. I can still see your eyes, laden with pain, with responsibility.
You left.
Seconds turned into minutes, turned into hours, turned into days. The seasons passed, merging into fall, the acorns ripened, dropped. Remnants of snow melt, flowing into spring.
The saplings you planted so many years ago grew, symbols of fortitude. They matured. If you were here, you would laugh, smile, dance amid the falling petals. I would be watching you, smiling, smiling. Time took that away from me. Memories that cannot be attained. Moments of a daydream that must end, gone, forever lost to fate.
Now, even as weeds cover up where you last stood, hiding the last link to happiness, I smile. I smile for the irony of life, giving us what we wanted, only to take it away. The brief years of bliss, expectations of senility, shattered, blown away, swept off by the tide of destiny, of existence.
I stand here, beside the stream. Waiting. Always waiting, for a pledge that faded with the sparkle in your eyes. For a fleeting glimpse of elation that I did not deserve. It ended with your mirth, your cries, your devotion.
The hourglass of contentment tilts, swaying to the rhythm of anger, beating to the poundings of a thousand drums.
All things must change, a cursed part of nature that came with the rising dawn. The mirage of eternity lingers only in the innocent blue eyes of children, unscarred by the facts of subsistence. Still, even the golden sunshine fades. Only the ghost of laughter remembers: Your smile... My youth.
Still, I refuse to let go, even as the sky bleeds in remembrance, sketches on a torn notepad. Memories of happier days keep me standing, living for a bleak illusion of crystalline tears. The delusion of hope faded the day you disappeared. I no longer expect, I stand here, harmless, beneath the sakura tree.
It's raining.
Cold streams wash away the blood of a thousand lifetimes, rinsing off the pain with a hundred tears. For lost memories, dreams broken, shattered, another part of destiny. The guilt doesn't find me there, locked in the warm cocoon of your love.
Do you weep?
For the countless tears that fall, followed by autumn showers. Cleansing away sins, making room, for new innocence. Petals that melt, unnoticed, shades of gray. Blending once more into the detached somber sky.
You freed me.
But chained me.
With ropes of bliss drenched with pain, with rain. Bathing the remembrance of a million lies. Slipping. Forgetting.
I cry.
My heart lies shattered. In the graveyard, beside the stream, at the foot of a cracked tombstone. With your name.
Summer fireflies emerge. Holding lanterns, light without warmth, love without pain. Wishes whispered to the crescent moon. Floating on innocent wings of light, untainted by darkness, the unavoidable night. Angles break out in song. Voices soaring, dancing in the freedom that is death, flying onto a different road, another way.
Down a well worn path.
Time flies on black wings.
Has it truly been 50 years since I have stood here, under the fallen sakura tree? Reminiscing about the petals that fall, dance, twirling to a song only they can hear. Falling onto the ground, the stream, dancing, singing, evaporating into the dark abyss that lurks beneath the peaceful mask. Ignorant to the harsh reality, the forgotten guide.
You used to gaze at them. Hours wasted. Thoughtful minutes of tranquility. Catching them in your hands. Smiling, always smiling at a secret locked away. I did not understand. Why stare at something that will always be here?
Year after year, it has stood, against the snowstorms, the rain. But time passed.
Year after year... after year. The bark peeled, cracked, fell. A pawn to the reality of life, victim to the cruelty of time.
Time.
Time took everything from me, all that I cared about. It strikes with a bittersweet vengeance that comes packaged in neat minutes, seconds, hours. Unsuspecting dots in history are brought down. Weak among the strong. Too late.
Too late.
Too late, too late. The melody of life stops for no one. The tragic notes silhouetted against the horizon, left by joy, by hope, by death.
Yet the rain still falls. Wet. Rivulets of pain gliding down a well-worn path. Sliding, pausing, finding peace in the blackness, the void of eternity. Giving up the chase, passing on with words of blessings, curses, silence.
Silence.
We will all walk down that road someday. Leaving, never looking back. For some, it is freedom, joy, happiness. Others are dragged down the winding trail, screaming, clawing, trying to break free. Their cries are not heard.
Life stops for no one.
You left without me. You slipped down the road of healing, into the russet dawn. Never looking back. You assured a promise that you knew will be broken. What good would it do? Time, our savior, our teacher, our friend, held the black blade behind you. The sharp pinprick of pain resurfaces, a reminder of promises broken, opportunities spent.
Defeated, faded, bent.
I remember your tears, your sorrow as you waved goodbye. I can still see your eyes, laden with pain, with responsibility.
You left.
Seconds turned into minutes, turned into hours, turned into days. The seasons passed, merging into fall, the acorns ripened, dropped. Remnants of snow melt, flowing into spring.
The saplings you planted so many years ago grew, symbols of fortitude. They matured. If you were here, you would laugh, smile, dance amid the falling petals. I would be watching you, smiling, smiling. Time took that away from me. Memories that cannot be attained. Moments of a daydream that must end, gone, forever lost to fate.
Now, even as weeds cover up where you last stood, hiding the last link to happiness, I smile. I smile for the irony of life, giving us what we wanted, only to take it away. The brief years of bliss, expectations of senility, shattered, blown away, swept off by the tide of destiny, of existence.
I stand here, beside the stream. Waiting. Always waiting, for a pledge that faded with the sparkle in your eyes. For a fleeting glimpse of elation that I did not deserve. It ended with your mirth, your cries, your devotion.
The hourglass of contentment tilts, swaying to the rhythm of anger, beating to the poundings of a thousand drums.
All things must change, a cursed part of nature that came with the rising dawn. The mirage of eternity lingers only in the innocent blue eyes of children, unscarred by the facts of subsistence. Still, even the golden sunshine fades. Only the ghost of laughter remembers: Your smile... My youth.
Still, I refuse to let go, even as the sky bleeds in remembrance, sketches on a torn notepad. Memories of happier days keep me standing, living for a bleak illusion of crystalline tears. The delusion of hope faded the day you disappeared. I no longer expect, I stand here, harmless, beneath the sakura tree.
It's raining.
Cold streams wash away the blood of a thousand lifetimes, rinsing off the pain with a hundred tears. For lost memories, dreams broken, shattered, another part of destiny. The guilt doesn't find me there, locked in the warm cocoon of your love.
Do you weep?
For the countless tears that fall, followed by autumn showers. Cleansing away sins, making room, for new innocence. Petals that melt, unnoticed, shades of gray. Blending once more into the detached somber sky.
You freed me.
But chained me.
With ropes of bliss drenched with pain, with rain. Bathing the remembrance of a million lies. Slipping. Forgetting.
I cry.
My heart lies shattered. In the graveyard, beside the stream, at the foot of a cracked tombstone. With your name.
Summer fireflies emerge. Holding lanterns, light without warmth, love without pain. Wishes whispered to the crescent moon. Floating on innocent wings of light, untainted by darkness, the unavoidable night. Angles break out in song. Voices soaring, dancing in the freedom that is death, flying onto a different road, another way.
Down a well worn path.