Elegy for Forgotten Dreams
by Dawg
In crypts where lost ambitions softly molder,
dreams curl like paper in a slow, perpetual burn,
their remains pressed beneath a tombstone shoulder,
the hush of regret, a lesson the living never learn.
Here, past’s confessions gather–quiet, unrepentant–
hope’s ancient bones tangled deep in sorrow’s dirt,
yet in the rot, new sinews pulse, relentless, unrelenting,
a tender green emerging from the wounds that hurt.
Each failed ambition–now a relic set in loam–
becomes the secret marrow of a coming spring,
a single sprout determined to reclaim the home
where broken wishes once refused to sing.
Mourn the lights that guttered, yes, but let the shadow pass–
for nothing wasted fails to seed some deeper root,
even the lost, in darkness, leave a hopeful cast,
as petals feed the earth that births their mute, persistent shoot.
Beneath the mossy stones of yesterday’s despair,
unseen roots weave their silent, spectral dance,
mistakes and losses feed the silent air,
sorrow’s alchemy granting every wound another chance.
The forest that now grows is watered by the tears
of every broken dream abandoned to the cold,
in moonlit hush, the past’s lament appears,
a spectral choir, fearless, ancient, bold.
Let the eulogy for hopes expired be not a dirge of dread,
but a recognition of the ground in which new strength is sown–
from crypts of failure, dreams unthread,
and resurrection finds a kingdom of its own.