By JH Sayyar
My love lies waning, like the twilight sun,
Its golden flame now flickers in the haze.
Once fierce and full, the fire is nearly done,
A ghost that haunts the ashes of our days
Your voice, once music, now is far and thin,
A fading echo lost to time’s cruel art.
The warmth we shared has worn away within,
And silence grows where once beat a heart.
Yet still I hold the shadow of your face,
Like petals pressed in books of long ago
A relic of a sweet and forsaken place,
A bloom that wilted, soft and pale with woe
Though love may die, it does not pass unseen
Its grave is etched in all that might have been.
0 Comments