Your indifference, the breath that sparked the fire beneath bridges

Your indifference, the breath that sparked the fire beneath bridges, Where my once sure steps now breach bonds and ridges. Your scars are but an alluring landscape, Their call, an echo urging me to reshake. I return, a prisoner of looking back, to see how The flames of the past scorched, leaving only ash to endow; And how, by some miracle, through veils of smoke so lush, From the soot I rise, alive and untouched. Each night, your shadow waltzes Through my dreams, a silent and frigid performance that startles. Your indifference is the bolt that shatters my window, leaving it bare, Beneath the black sky, my wound bleeds, but my heart still dares. Here I stand, steadfast in my withdrawal, watching as The bridges flicker and collapse into the river of oblivion's pas. On the shore, I gather my memories and watch them with bitter jest, Feeling deep within the echo of your steps now void of warmth and zest. Your indifference, a glacier in the realm of feelings riven with splits, My dreams falling into them, crushed under frosty weights and unspoken pits. Thus I've scattered, a flame still burning in the heart of night, In the mystery of one who loves alone, under skies where stars refuse to lead or light. I am the creature who from nickel and silver sculpts love's cleave, In a silent terraforming of my devastated soul, I weave. Shaking the ash from tender wings, I lift my gaze to constellations That will never answer, yet to which I still extend my beseeching invocations.