The paths in my heart

filled with severe emptiness

it gave in to death.

Winter is when nature slips into a death-like sleep; everything stands still, and silence falls upon the earth. Nature recovers from spring’s perkiness, summer’s adventures, and the hard-earned harvest of autumn.

The winter wind blows strongly, scattering the happy memories around like seeds that can grow and last forever, whilst the hurtful moments are blown far away over the ocean.

So winter is sound asleep, gathering strength, preparing ground, and engraving new paths for a new cycle of life.

Like the unfolding of winter, it goes, the same for the heart after a painful love. It desperately tries to keep the jovial memories like seeds, while emptying the bad ones. What remains are dark paths of hollowness, as death. But the heart never gives up. Holding on to true happiness, it awaits hopefully to embrace a new love, like spring, and to mend its shattered paths.

©2025, Vasiliki Papadopoulou