Ego solus

ego solus

The cold breeze feels like a sad memory forgotten,

like storms past I too didn't remember the rains that led me here,

to this place were solitude is a humble embrace,

where songs are therapy,

my own rumblings the villain to these stale theatrics.

Birds whisper truths I hardly adhere to,

the dust under my feet a healthy heap of my regrets that I'd let pass me by,

too soon to feel pain, too soon to feel a need to be some place else,

the words unsaid built up like wealth unspent,

passed on down to the people that need me the most.

If the frost would kill, yes the frost does kill and I know that since every day I wake up anew,

with all the pain wiped, to be replaced by a new chain,

a new thought,

an idea led bare, bare for them to see.

Being seen is the only joy, being seen is my only joy.

If only they'd known me more than just that, the sad boy always lost in his own thoughts.

In his own maze of ideas, a reality for him.

In those humble moments sleep is just sleep,

and not a breeding ground for sore thoughts, the sun is warm,

feels rather unknown to him.

Love isn't a myth anymore.

Love isn't just the stories left behind by those of weak minds.

On the inside, a hope, a hope for better,

better than was the norm in those delicate moments.

A sonnet, low, whispered softly in his ears, as he'd sat upon the river shore,

just watching the sun set, as it always did on yet another day.

16/03/21

'Ego sulus' is Latin for 'Alone I' used in the context of 'Alone I stand'