Cycles of Grief

Life has a way of testing us, sometimes in cycles, sometimes in storms that seem to have no end. For years, I have faced these patterns—moments of despair followed by brief glimpses of hope. But this time, the storm lingers, and the darkness feels unyielding. Despite my best efforts to heal, I find myself trapped in a web of relentless struggles.

In this poem, I’ve poured out the raw emotions of living through this unending cycle—grief, exhaustion, and a faint ember of defiance. It’s a reflection of my journey, my pain, and the fragile hope that persists even when faith falters.

Here’s "Cycles of Grief"—a piece from my heart, for anyone who has ever felt trapped in the cycles of suffering.

Alone again, in this house of shadows,

Five years stretch like a river of sorrow.

I mapped the patterns of my despair,

Each cycle a storm, the air too heavy to bear.

Two years of pain, then a flicker of grace,

An unseen force pulling me from the abyss.

But now the wheel has halted its spin—

No light, no peace, only battles within.

I am prey to unseen pests, relentless, sly,

Feasting on my body, while my soul runs dry.

I’ve tried every cure, every desperate art,

Yet they linger, burrowed deep in my heart.

I thought I knew how this would unfold—

Suffering, then reprieve, as the universe foretold.

But the sky holds no promise, the stars stay still,

Every prayer I whisper bends to another's will.

My body bends too, frail as a leaf,

While my soul aches beneath this endless grief.

The faith I clung to now splinters, weak,

The words of hope, too bitter to speak.

And yet, there’s a rebellion within—

A defiance that flickers, refusing to dim.

If the universe watches, let it see:

This battered soul will not bow easily.

For even in decay, life clings fast,

And a broken spirit can outlast.

Perhaps, in this abyss, I plant a seed—

A quiet prayer that the universe will heed.