It is what it is then

Losing my life's work, my intellectual property 😖 what did you think

It is what it is then,
no protest left to give.
The sleepless nights depart me,
like ghosts who choose to live.

The hard work lies unfinished,
its echoes fade away,
a scaffolding of silence
where once I knelt to pray.

If love was but a burden,
I carried it with care�"
now empty hands remember
the weight that isn’t there.

So take this quiet leaving,
a farewell carved in bone;
for even in surrender,
I grieve to be alone