Poetry/Haibun/Melancholy Soul Copyright Protected, ID 06-1551-274-01 All Rights Reserved, 2023, Constance La France
Written June 01, 2023 for the Premiere contest, Eight Word Challenge sponsor, Emile Pinet, Judged 06/22/2023
Third Place
"Sometimes, we are stabbed by life's death knife: and we fall into grief, detached, and introverted, but, with courage, we spread our wings and soar!" Quote by _Constance ________________ After, I was told about his death, I became withdrawn, quiet and detached. He was my beloved, our life was planned and would be perfect he had said. Life had no meaning for me anymore, I was shattered in my spirit and soul. I would not eat, or sleep, or speak. I spent my days in wistful contemplation, forlorn, lost and mournful. I was far distant and wrapped in my dark grief, I wore it like a shroud. Each nostalgic memory was just a gloomy sentiment. My loving, caring parents held me to their hearts and I loved them for that . the birds still sing songs the trees still sway in the wind ~ whispering come come My future looked dark grim and a deep depression shadowed me day and night. It was always right there, beside me, behind me, and in front of me. It was heavy like a huge rock holding me down. Leaving me breathless. My thoughts and feelings were dreary, clouded, muddled and quite desolate. Oh, it was decaying my health, each day I was getting weaker and I knew that my beloved would not want this. So, I ate, I slept, I spoke, I wept tears. I shook off the melancholy spreading my wings like a bird soaring. one morn the sun shone the forest was so lush green ~ so I danced with trees
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