Unbecoming (unfinished)

Unbecoming (unfinished)

In shadows deep, where whispers sigh,  
I ponder all, as silence nigh.  
What weight is this upon my heart?  
A heavy cloak, a restless start.  

Is joy a fleeting ghost I chase,  
Or echoed reminders of a lost face?  
The world spins on, a restless dance,  
While I stand still, caught in a trance.  

What purpose lies in this charade,  
In smiles worn thin, in dreams delayed?  
Am I but dust, a fleeting breath,  
A shadow cast, a dance with death?  

Each day a mirror, cracked and worn,  
Reflecting hopes that feel forlorn.  
Is there a path, a light to find,  
Or am I bound, forever blind?  

In questioning, I seek to see,  
The fragments of what’s left of me.  
Yet in this ache, this heavy gloom,  
Is there a seed, a chance to bloom?