what I would give to do it differently, to do it again,
but I can’t. my sin is final — the stain unwashable.
no amount of I’m sorry can change what is done.
only you can forgive me;
but death is silent. black. unforgiving.
you are gone. but I am left
to pick up the pieces and continue on.
all I can be is better next time —
to honor your memory, your lesson, your life
Written 2025-2026
© 2026 Ilyas Taraki
notes from my iPhone 