Echoes in the Abyss

 


In swirling dark, the iris weeps,
Reflecting souls where torment sleeps.
No solace found, no comfort nears,
Just endless tears and chilling fears.

Black pupil, mirror to despair,
Where whispered screams hang heavy in the air.
Each sight a wound, a memory's sting,
Of shattered lives, where joy takes wing.

We witness pain, a brutal art,
Etched on bone, carved deep in heart.
The echo lingers, long and cold,
A story told, yet never told.

No light escapes this haunted well,
Where shadows dance and secrets dwell.
We bear the scars, the unseen weight,
Of what we see, of what we hate.

So let us tread, with careful stride,
Through landscapes etched where darkness hides.
For in the depths, where shadows bloom,
We glimpse the truth, in painful gloom.


Unlikely Buddha 2024


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