AUTUMN EMBERS

I lie amidst the ashes of autumn leaves, engulfed by the vortex of life, unable to shake off the shackles of desolation. The corners of my eyes are tinged with the crimson of windswept petals, as if the endless sorrow within me is overflowing. Yet, the bustling crowd around me feels like another world, distant and unreachable.
I once believed that the return of the geese was inevitable in life, but reality now speaks of the cruel truth before my eyes. The drifting seeds may eventually find a home, but I find myself ensnared in a maze I cannot surpass. I shut the door, severing my connection with the outside world, leaving only solitude and pain as companions.
In those quiet moments, I listen to the whispers of the wind, as if the voices of the past are softly murmuring in my ears. The fallen leaves dance in the breeze, like fragments of time, stirring warm memories of the past deep within me. Memories flood my mind, the laughter and songs of yesteryears bloom in my thoughts, yet they also plunge me into an endless abyss of emotions.
The dark corners of my soul are filled with suppression and powerlessness. I try to struggle within them, but it feels like being trapped in an endless abyss. The melancholy and tranquility of autumn solidify into the state of my heart. I feel the crimson of windswept petals, as if it is my cry for help against the depression, yet it is futile, as no one can understand the anguish within me.
People hurry past, while I lie amidst the ashes, becoming a helpless bystander. What was once thought of as homecoming is now just a futile fantasy, and I, a lonely wanderer. Longing for warmth and love always out of reach; I am like the seed scattered by the wind, unable to find my roots.
The door I shut has now become an insurmountable barrier, and I am left alone with myself in silence. I am lost in this world of withered leaves, the wind howling in my ears, as if the whispers of the past, stirring my longing for bygone joyous times. Yet the beauty has now departed, leaving behind only endless emptiness and helplessness.
Perhaps, it is loneliness that has gradually made me numb, deeply immersed in the ocean of memories, unable to break free. The troubles of the past are like an invisible quagmire, dragging me into the abyss, unable to escape.
Finally, amidst these ashes, I find a trace of tranquility. I close my eyes, letting the wind blow away the last traces of struggle. Perhaps, this is a form of escapism, a way to confront emotions I cannot withstand. In this quiet autumn, I merge with the pain within me, still lying amidst the ashes of autumn leaves, indulging in eternal darkness. In the end, only the echoes of sadness remain.