Fragments of Memories
Amidst the chambers of my heart, fragments of memories resides, whispering tales of a place I once called home. They are like fragments of a shattered mirror, each piece reflecting essence of life left behind.
There is a ray of sunlight streaming through the window panes, casting a golden glow upon the familiar walls. I can almost feel the warmth upon my skin, hear the soft hum of life that filled this room. It was a sanctuary, a haven where endearment and laughter embraced every corner, creating symphony of belonging.
But now, those fragments are like echos from a distant dream. I am an outsider looking in, observing the remnants of a life that was once I belong.
There is longing, ache for serenity and familiarity that once enveloped my being. It's in the creaking of the cabinets, the banging of the front door, the memories etched into every crack and curves. It is the imprint of a place that shaped me, nutured me, and held me in its embrace.
Yet, as I reflect in these fragments of memories, I find solace in knowing that home resides not in the physicality of walls, but within the depths of my souls. It is a tapestry woven with love, resilience, and cherised moments that will forever be carved in my heart. The essence of home lingers, carried within me, wherever I may wander.
And so as I embrace these shards as reminders of the past, as fragments that guide me forward. For even though I'm no longer within those walls, the spirit of home resides within me, and reminding me of the strenght and beauty that comes from carrying the cherished memories wherever life may lead.
