Wreckage

I have nothing left to offer.

This once sacred place is rent in two, and I'm left standing in the wreckage.

All I see are glimpses of a lost life, lost love

As the ruins of a once grand palace crumble around me, I care not any longer.

What we had is burning, crashing to the ground as she walks out the gates; and I stand.

And I stare.

And I laugh.

And I cry.

And I rage. And I mourn. And I scream.

And I die...

A thousand deaths, each more painful than the last, wracking my soul until I have nothing left.

The fire is gone, the fuel spent. All that's left is me, brought to my knees.

In the dark. Alone.

And while I wait what seems a thousand years, the sun starts to creep over the crestfallen hills. Light permeates the darkness, illuminating the wreckage.

Sorrow fades. Emptiness is filled with the light of hope. All remnants of my former prison are erased. Replaced with sprouting grass, blooming flowers, morning dew.

Green fills the clearing, trees begin to grow. It takes time, but life returns little by little.

Until it begins to thrive.

I stand, arms outstretched, welcoming life back. I feel the sun on my skin, I hear birds in the trees, I marvel at the vibrance of the forest that has replaced despair.

And then I see her. And she me. And our eyes meet.

And a spark ignites.