Circle of Life

My unheard voice

echoes

from blank walls, now

set free

toward the empty horizon

seen through the window

each day, it's

filled with sun or rain.

There's nothing to be found here, only

salty tears shed for what's lost

sprinkled onto memories, now past.

I wipe them away with these aching hands.

My mind is content with housework.

I'm happier doing chores than ever before.

Now, with all the unpleasant smells removed,

the place feels wonderful

almost like Christmas with its festivities,

roasted chestnuts and mulled wine.

But there's something beyond this

fleeting relief fades

making way for a steady flow,

like a chugging train,

carrying me back to the past,

where everything began and finished so fast.

This place feels reborn now

where wisteria should grow,

if the weather weren't so harsh.

From the very beginning,

our history unfolds,

a mix of truth and emotion,

moving between the past, future, and fantasy,

a cycle that must continue

no matter the circumstances.