It’s an elegy.

But, who did I lose?

I’m not really sure myself,

I’m not really sure of myself. 

Perhaps,

myself is the one I lost.

You can feel it in the hollow drum of your heart

A heart not to dream with,

but to circulate your blood

After all, isn't that it’s purpose?

Well, if an elegy isn’t to be about loss,

perhaps reflection.

So, why don’t I glance in the mirror?

Wow... A mere glance,

 and I can see the crumbling of ashes.

No. No.

Not of the mirror.

Of me.

Maybe redemption is the proper thing to write about in an elegy?

Would someone look through my rheumy eyes,

and see the luminosity I pretend for them to be.

Would they decree that I was indeed redeemable?

I don’t think I would deem so,

too many mistakes take hold of me,

like a puppet.

Despite my head being drowned from the inside.

With what, I’m not sure?

Or, an elegy of consolation. 

I console the muffled cries of those I care for.

So,

strong.

They’re so strong.

Their pain reverberates through me, 

but I can hear the whispering aftershock.

Saying how they know,

 that I wish that was me

in their arms, instead.

But, fear binds me in glass chains.

I am not selfish.

So, I console

myself.

I don’t really want to.

All of these things are a part of

me.

They are laced into my 

soul. 

But,

I-,

I never lost

myself.

I grew.

Just as a phoenix could be reborn,

I too can rise from the reflection’s

ashes.

I can finally look through 

my glassy eyes.

And see the mistakes, but there is much more

life and wonder,

than I had ever bothered to see.

The consoling isn’t just to stop the suffering,

it’s because

I can say 

with pride

I love 

myself.

And, to help yourself,

is not selfish.

This is an elegy for all those who have suffered and mourned.

Some, maybe have not witnessed a life,

snuffed from this earth.

But, may have felt the loss of 

their essence of themselves.

It’s going to be okay.

One day we will be able to feel the magic encircling us.

And, it will be the most beautiful moment to ever exist.

I have,

 and it was the most blissful,

 but bittersweet treat.

We,

are strong.

Do not

forget it.