In the quiet aftermath, the word "quit" echoes,  

A heavy silence in the corridors of memory.  

A single word, a door to myriad pathways,  

Each avenue intertwining, meandering through the fog.

Clues lie hidden in the shadows cast by our verses,  

Fleeting glimpses of understanding,  

Yet certainty eludes us, at every turn it seems:

Answers remain just out of reach.

We, the ones left behind, grasp at fragments,  

Picking up the pieces, mending the void,  

Trying to fill the space they once occupied,  

Wrestling with the darkness they left behind.

Is it a black hole we flee from, or one we warp through?  

In this spiral of grief and questioning,  

The future holds for us its secrets

Only time will reveal if we will find clarity or remain lost.

In these moments, we must carry on,  

Walking paths both light and shadowed,  

Seeking meaning in the echoes,  

Finding strength in the act of continuing.

The pursuit of happiness, a delicate balance,  

Not a guarantee but a quest,  

In the face of despair, we persevere,  

For in the journey, we find our strength.