Forgive Me

Forgive me for forgiving myself on your behalf, For granting a pardon you may never give. Forgive yourselves, too, for facing life In a direction opposite mine—for we are all travelers, Wandering paths shaped by time. It is only a matter of time, A matter of time before weariness claims me, Before that fleeting, silent lassitude falls, And I reach for the hand of the boy I used to be. Together, we will walk away— Not in retreat, but in a quiet reconciliation. I lost all I had to give, And so, I leave you with this: A plea, raw and unpolished— Love me one last time, Not for what I’ve done or failed to do, But for the soul that endures beneath it all. Love me once, for the last time, As I stand here, unmasked, unchanged, Forever a poet of Kachikau, Born of its sands, raised by its winds, Carrying its echoes in my every word. This is the life I sought, A life wrested from the clutches of despair, A life I fought for—year upon year— Not bound by rules of right or wrong, But free, unshackled, unmeasured. This is the life I live, A rhythm that cannot be confined, A flame that time cannot extinguish, A story still being written in the ink of my resolve. So, forgive me, as I forgive myself, For choosing this path, for writing this fate. And when the time comes, When the boy I once was takes my hand, Know that I walked away whole— Because I was loved.