Ashes of Tomorrow

A meditation on love and loss, where memory lingers like a shadow of longing.

We may not meet again in this lifetime—
perhaps only as shadows wandering through dreams,
the way a pressed leaf
waits centuries inside a forgotten diary.

Love is a relic buried in ruins;
sometimes, if you search among the wreckage,
you find a glimmer—
not of gold, but of something
that once burned brighter than stone.

Every sorrow is poured into the same chalice;
grief and desire ferment together,
and what spills forth intoxicates
far more than any vintage ever could.

Do not mistake me for holy,
nor yourself for divine.
We are only human—
why then should we hide behind
walls built of silence?

The noose around my throat today
may one day become
a chapter in the world’s curriculum.
Remember this:
truth has a way of climbing back to life.

And when the past is nothing but dust,
when you and I are strangers even to memory,
perhaps two weary travelers
will still meet in the mirage
of an endless longing.