Surrender

Releasing you is the hardest act I’ve ever embraced,

Yet one I must endure, a necessary chapter in life’s script.

For every soul has its lessons, every heart its sacred mission,

And though pain claws at the dawn, beauty awaits in the distance.

I do not bind my tears; I let them flow freely,

Like rivers carving through valleys of silent sorrow.

I weep not for weakness but for love’s unspoken language,

Crying softly in the shadow of your dreams,

Sobbing silently within the chambers of my soul.

In your slumber, I place my grief like petals at your feet,

Each tear a testimony to the ache of letting go.

My spirit trembles, hollow yet heavy,

Yet I know the threads of fate weave only what must be.

So I surrender to the ache, to the mourning skies above,

Believing that from this anguish will rise

A symphony of healing, a horizon painted in hues of hope.

For in the art of release, love finds its eternal voice.

Releasing you is not just an act—it is a breaking,

A fracturing of the soul, splintered into a thousand tender shards.

Each one carries your name, your laughter, your touch,

And as they scatter, they cut me in ways I cannot name.

The nights are endless now, their silence deafening,

And though the moon rises, it offers no solace,

For its light only reveals the void where you once stood.

I reach out, foolishly, into the darkness,

Grasping at memories that slip through my fingers like sand.

I cry in the quietest corners of my being,

So my pain does not disturb the world around me.

My tears fall like prayers, not for your return,

But for the strength to endure your absence.

Even in sleep, I find no reprieve—

Dreams betray me, bringing you back

Only to wake to the reality of your fading shadow.

I am haunted, not by anger, not by regret,

But by the weight of love that has nowhere to go.

It pools within me, stagnant and suffocating,

A love too vast for a heart now so hollow.

Yet, amidst the torment, I cling to a fragile hope,

That this breaking is not the end but the beginning,

That every wound is a passage,

Every tear a bridge to something greater.

Though I bleed, though I shatter,

I trust that one day, this pain will bloom into light—

A light that will carry your essence,

Not as a loss, but as a part of me, forever.

©poembyselly