Fragmented Melody

In the quiet dusk,  
a broken melody hangs in the air,  
notes drifting like fallen petals—  
cherry blossoms on an empty dojo floor.  
  
The faint echo of taekwondo strikes lingers,  
each kick a shard of memory;  
footsteps dance in rhythms once whole,  
now splintered as laughter fades to silence.  
  
Kimono threads whisper tales of yesteryear:  
silken patterns worn with grace,   
the fabric a tapestry of dreams now frayed.   
Colors bleed like forgotten songs into shadow.  
  
I recall how you moved—   
the way your spirit flowed through every form,    
unbroken even when the world jaggedly shifted.    
Yet here we stand beneath this twilight veil;    
what was once music is merely breath and sighs.
  
A candle flickers against the dark,   
illuminating fragments that refuse to align—    
lost verses searching for their lost refrain.    
What remains is an ache carved deep      
into those who remember your light.

In stillness lies our reverence;   
we bow low before these echoes—     
taekwondo teaches us balance and honor:     
to rise up even though melodies remain blurred;       
to embrace each moment’s whispered truth—even broken,
even beautiful.

So let us gather these notes scattered across time,    
woven together under layers of sorrow and hope—
for every fragment holds the pulse beneath its skin,
and within this elegy resides a new beginning,
born from loss yet tangled in love’s endless reach.