A Lament for Lost Joy

O gentle breeze, that whispers through the leaves,
Carry my lament to the heavens above.
Let the gods hear my plea and take pity on my wretched soul.
For in this world of fleeting joys and enduring sorrows,
I seek but a glimmer of hope,
A sign that all is not lost.

The winds do howl, the trees do softly weep,
As if nature itself mourns alongside me,
Sharing in my grief.
Each rustle of leaves, each whisper of the breeze,
Is a poignant reminder of what has been lost.

Though the night is long and filled with shadows,
I hold fast to the belief that dawn will come,
Bringing with it the promise of a new beginning.

O how I long for solace, for reprieve,
For gentle hands to heal, for love to cleave.
My heart is heavy with the weight of unspoken sorrows.
The world around me slumbers, yet I remain awake,
The stars above twinkle with a cold indifference,
Their light unable to pierce the veil of despair
That shrouds my spirit.

Whilst I, below, am lost within the night,
As I, alone, in silent vigil keep,
The world continues its relentless march forward.
Time, that unyielding force, moves on,
Indifferent to the pain that grips my heart.
What cruel twist of fortune’s fickle hand
Has led me to this desolate place,
Where dreams once bright now fade from mortal sight?