A Large Pebble

The wind ravishes this soul of mine, this breath of mine
it leaves and in its place remains a stone
heavy, round and bitter
the absence of what was needful is now just a large pebble
If I could grasp onto the hope that was once within me
and harness it like wind
I should like to think I could safely love again
where my soul would be free and alive and floating on the tendrils of clouds
but no, 'tis a stone
heavy, round and bitter
and the absence of what is needful; just a large pebble
and stilled
like an abandoned home after the storms
How can I recover from such things?
My hands are cold and my chest is a cavern and I am a pit of hopelessness
where wind doth rage unstoppably cold
and left is only a stone
a large pebble
heavy, round and bitter