Monday, January 13, 2025

The Faint Echo Of Grace

How do I forgive a ghost
that only exists in memories?

What does it mean to let go,
when the bruises have faded,
but the heart won't forget?

Sometimes, a faint voice,
a fleeting echo,
almost within reach,
but still so far away:

Forgiveness, not absolution.

Not for him, for me.
So I can bloom,
breathe,
and finally be free.

 

No comments:

Post a Comment

Featured Post

Diary

I never learned the rules about meter or metaphor, or what not to say out loud. I just write what lives inside me: the bruises, the blossoms...