I came to this place of extreme loneliness

To find a piece of myself that I had lost.

A piece of the puzzle, a clue in the game

Of life.

Not all things lost, shall be found.

Not by me, or you, or yours, or mine.

This piece I lost is hidden

In plain sight.

Just out of reach, forever.

Not all things lost, can be recovered.

Not by me, or you, or yours, or mine.

This piece I lost is forever gone.

In plain sight but

Too far below,

Too far away,

Too far gone,

To be brought back to me

Where it belongs.

But alas, what if I have this whole thing wrong?

Maybe the piece never did belong to me.

Maybe I belonged to it.

Maybe it is the whole and I am the piece.

A piece of a peaceless puzzle,

To be unwhole forever.

Is that life?

Or is that simply

Death?

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Poetry