Dissociative Amnesia

I walk within a shadowed hall, Where echoes fade before recall, The walls are bare, the mirrors blind, A labyrinth, a maze in my own mind. Fragments are scattered like broken glass, Like a thousand leaves beneath the sun, I search for truths I cannot find, Each moment lost, each thread unlined. The years slip by, a voiceless tide, They took my past and let me hide. What hands have written on my page, What silent thief, what silent rage? Faces hover, in the ether as mist, Names unspoken, moments missed. The weight of time, a hollow sphere, Its whispers lost, its meaning unclear. And yet, some part of me remains, A song beneath the sharpest pains. The heart remembers what the mind forgets, In sorrow's cradle, no regrets. Though my memory falters, cracks, and breaks, Each gap, a wound, each ache, an ache, I gather pieces, sharp and blunt, And weave the fabric in my mind. For even as the past decays, I hold to light, to brighter days, A fractured soul, yet still I try, With open hands, beneath wide skies.