The world spins on, a careless blur,
While I stand still, a heart unsure.
A hole is ripped, a gaping wound,
Where laughter danced, and love was found.
They say time heals, a callous phrase,
When time feels endless in a maze.
The air is thick, a heavy weight,
I search for solace, sealed by fate.
One day, a whisper, soft and kind,
A gentle hand, a touch I find.
An offering, a thread so fine,
A memory woven, a lifeline.
A knitted square, a splash of blue,
The color of a summer sky, so true.
A stitch unraveled, a teardrop falls,
A memory blooms, through empty halls.
It's not a cure, this woolen square,
But in its warmth, I find a prayer.
A silent plea, a whispered vow,
To hold on tight, somehow, somehow.
More squares arrive, a growing quilt,
Each thread a story, love unspilt.
A stolen laugh, a whispered joke,
Woven together, to gently choke
The grip of grief, the crushing tide,
Replaced by moments, where love can hide.
A picnic shared, beneath a tree,
The scent of grass, eternally.
A favorite scarf, a vibrant green,
Reminds me of walks, where dreams were seen.
A faded shirt, a button lost,
The warmth of arms, at what a cost?
Each thread a memory, bittersweet,
A tapestry of love, both incomplete.
But in the gaps, where sorrow lies,
A thread of hope, begins to rise.
The world still spins, the sun still shines,
But the sharp edges, lose their lines.
The grief remains, a constant hum,
But love's soft whisper, starts to come.
The blanket grows, a patchwork shield,
Against the storms, emotions yield.
A teardrop falls, but not in pain,
A release of love, a cleansing rain.
On quiet nights, when shadows creep,
I wrap myself, in memories deep.
The weight of loss, a little less,
Replaced by whispers, a gentle caress.
The squares continue, one by one,
A gathering of love, beneath the sun.
A stranger's touch, a friend's embrace,
Weaving a strength, to find my place.
The grief may linger, a constant friend,
But love's soft thread, will never end.
The blanket grows, a testament true,
That love and loss, can coexist, somehow, too.
One day, perhaps, the squares will cease,
The weight of grief, a gentle peace.
But for now, I hold this woven prayer,
A love-filled shield, a burden to share.
For grief is not a burden to bear alone,
It's a shared journey, a whispered moan.
Let others gather, thread by thread,
Weaving a blanket, where love is spread.
So let us share, our stories untold,
Of laughter lost, and hearts turned cold.
In every stitch, a memory kept,
A love that's lost, but never slept.
This grief blanket, a silent plea,
A testament to love, eternally.
A symbol that though hearts may break,
Love's threads remain, for hope's sweet sake.
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About the Creator
Moharif Yulianto
a freelance writer and thesis preparation in his country, youtube content creator, facebook
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