Pilgrim of a Thousand Lives
The lives I never lived,
Yet I somehow remember
worlds etched into my memory,
Alive in me forever.
Days blurs into hours,
Hours stretch into days,
I stare at the pixels
and drift through distant haze.
I've fought battles not mine,
made choices I can't undo,
mourned countless losses not real,
yet every sorrow felt true.
I've loved ghosts in forgotten lands,
where time and truth both bend.
Their stories are carved into me,
like whispers that never end,
Each story, a quiet teacher,
each ending a beautiful ache.
I come back a little different,
though the world remains the same..
The screen may dim,
the stories may slowly fade to black,
but something lingers still
And sometimes, it calls me back.
I am but a pilgrim,
of thousand borrowed lives.
shaped by every journey
where someone else survives.