Solitary Witness
A poem
A poem
I walk through the empty streets,
echoes of a world that once was,
each step, a reminder of the silence,
the absence of voices, laughter, life.
The buildings stand like sentinels,
guarding memories of a time
when humanity thrived,
now just shadows in the dust.
I think of the faces,
those I loved, those I lost,
their smiles haunting me in the stillness,
their warmth a distant memory.
Time stretches endlessly,
each moment, a lifetime,
each heartbeat, a reminder
of the solitude that envelops me.
In this vast emptiness, I find clarity,
a painful understanding of existence,
the weight of being the last,
the hope for a future that may never come.
I speak to the wind,
my words carried away,
lost in the void,
a testament to my presence, my survival.
The sun rises and sets,
a constant in this changing world,
its light a beacon of hope,
its warmth a fleeting comfort.
I am the last,
a solitary witness to the end,
yet in this loneliness, I find strength,
a resolve to keep moving, to keep living.
For even in the silence,
there is beauty,
in the stillness, there is peace,
and in my heart, there is hope.
Click here to get my free weekly Poetry Genius Newsletter on Substack. All things poetry — discussion, hints and tips, tuition, etc from Medium’s top poetry writer.
Write for The Lark
Submission guidelines for a short story and poetry publicationmedium.com