Desolation

In the realm of shadows, I often roam,

Where desolation makes its quiet home,

A somber word, a melancholy theme,

Where sorrow flows as a meandering stream.

Beneath the moon's pale and muted light,

Desolation whispers through the night,

A solitary figure in a world so vast,

In its grip, we find ourselves cast.

The empty spaces between heartbeats,

Where solitude and silence gently meet,

Desolation weaves its mournful song,

A melody of sadness, haunting and long.

In abandoned places, it takes its stand,

On desolate shores of forgotten land,

It paints the world in shades of gray,

As hopes and dreams slowly fade away.

Yet, in the depths of this lonesome night,

There's a glimmer of hope, a tiny light,

For even in desolation's darkest hour,

Love and resilience hold the power.

To mend the broken and heal the soul,

To make the wounded spirit whole,

Desolation's grip may be cold and strong,

But together, we'll find where we belong.

In the tapestry of life, both dark and bright,

Desolation's thread weaves through the fight,

But remember, dear heart, as you tread this road,

Love and strength can lighten the heaviest load.