Hiraeth

The old house I grew up in now seems rather empty

And I find myself wandering in its yard

Am I really there, or is it just a memory?

I try to look for an inkling inside my heart.

The old garden I used to play in is now overgrown;

And I find myself lost within its troubled depths.

I try to go back, remember that once so tidy lawn

But my memories are mangled, there is nothing left.

I think the old house took something of me

Behind its ivy covered walls of a heart

I’m starting to feel the void now, really

I listen as it calls to me from inside.

How I’d love to go back to that old house

And play in its garden once more

I wouldn’t stay long, just a few hours

I feel as it calls me by my soul.

I think the old house is gone now

And I forgot all I used to have

I keep trying to figure out how

But I have no memories left.

And with the old house I am fading too

If all that made me who I am is lost

What is left of me now, what can I still do?

Am I still alive, if yes, at what cost?

I am a resemblance, but never a person

I am a mirror-ball, but not a reflection.

I left my soul behind with a single question:

Was I ever real, or just a projection?