echoes-in-ash

[echoes-in-ash]

[echoes-in-ash]

Spiegelkind

(Mirror-child)

Each time I meet the mirror, it flinches too,

Looking back at me, eyes borrowed from ghosts.

Two hollowed abyss staring back in pain across generations through,

Lines etched with echoes of past, a skeu of its hosts.

Life born from shadows of others’ grief,

Living nightmares, unlived dreams thrust upon unseen…

Soul remnant, inherited bedlam my fief,

When stripped bare—all left but a whisper of what might’ve been.

Woven through me, a legacy of chaos and fears,

My burden misnamed as my identity.

This body, my prison—an archive of tears,

An inheritance of silence, born into a dark propensity.

A choice never given, known nothing but ache,

Mirror chain of trauma, not quite mine but I couldn’t escape.

Life��worn threads frayed, greyed—does this web make,

Enervated soul, shrouded in dolor cape.

Sorrow never claimed, only passed along.

Never born nor made—only continued.

Now the abyss my home, where I belong,

Unseen, unchosen—becoming what they buried.

-EchoesInAsh

[echoes-in-ash]

L’amour Plié

(Folded Love)

L’amour pile

I found my heart,

my beacon through life’s long night—

not fireworks or sparks,

but a steady glow

that warms me

like the touch of dawn light…

Deep in your eyes

I found a love

that has endured

through trials and moments sublime,

folded again and again—

creased with memories

and softened by time.

Every fold a season,

every line a whispered promise within.

In a forgotten world,

two souls’ journey begin…

Not a dream but a miracle I woke to,

an anchor in the storm—

everything else fades but you.

In awe forever at a heart

that carried my hopes and fears,

making space for more…

How do I thank you,

mon infini amour?

You saw poetry

where the world saw flaws at its core,

to be held, not judged—

known, not fixed;

the rarest of love,

never asking to be more.

Refuge d’âme,

never letting me fall,

not to lean on—

but eternal strength

that sustained me through it all…

Not an escape,

but a cocoon

for the truest me.

Grâce aimée—

what did I do

to deserve thee?

A fraction even

could I give back

of the calm faith

you stitched into unraveling me…

I wish upon you

the weightless peace

between heartbeats—

that hold

a thousand small forevers,

ici.

-EchoesInAsh

[echoes-in-ash]

Tamashii-sabishii: The Burn of Rest

(a word that doesn’t exist, but should)

I came across this word—

kubisabishii —

lonely mouth.

But I wish there were a similar word

for a lonely soul.

A soul that keeps grasping,

even when it has no substance.

A silent soul…

Not in peace or stillness—

but in chaotic void.

Where rest,

oh so welcome and yearned,

is still a burden—

one that scorches.

Me,

a wisp of my former glory—

yet never called glorious then.

That past now feels

like a shining acme.

They say the world ceases to exist

when you find your passion, your purpose…

But what do they call it

when the world becomes

too much of an existence?

Hid myself inside me,

tucked in so deep…

Not disappearing,

but forgotten from where within I began.

As a flicker,

for a moment I lit—

held meaning.

Then I passed.

Me,

forever searching

that light

again.

The bed,

a respite once—

now quicksand.

Sinking slowly,

anchored dreams…

Nowhere to go

but drown.

A rhythm not keeping time with life,

Too early yet too late,

Faded into oblivion even before it ever began…

Moments untouched passed me by,

An aura turned cold like shadows disappearing at my heel.

No wail nor whimper—just silence.

A sorrow so deep, it sits, breathes and lingers beneath,

Crushed by all that’s lost and gone…

A smile held too long as it threatens to shatter,

A safe haven it seeks,

To let go and fall apart,

An ache for refuge to shelter and hush…

The tempest that berates within…

Echoes of wounds never fully healed…

Even a whisper stings.

Alien to me, my own reflection.

Every stir too tight within.

Know not wherewith to go—

Leaden feet, every step relentless…

My soul’s compass endlessly spun.

Sleep that beckons but never to embrace,

At the edge achingly near my forsaken reveries tetter.

Not in need, a hero to rescue—

But a witness of soul…

Enfold in tenderness, tattered remains

All that once was whole…

Breathe back to life my deadened essence—

A being made of hope and verve.

— EchoesInAsh

a voice folded deep within, now stirring into breath.