In the quiet echoes of the lingering night,
Where shadows dance with the fading light,
A heart whispers tales of what once had been,
In the silent spaces where memories are seen.

The sky weeps softly with the morning dew,
Each tear a fragment of a love so true,
Yet in the chambers of the grieving heart,
Hope flickers gently, refusing to part.

Amidst the whispers of the cold, dark air,
A soul seeks solace in a whispered prayer,
Though time may weave its healing thread,
The love remains, though words are unsaid.

In every breath, a story softly told,
Of laughter, tears, and hands once held,
Grief, a river flowing through the veins,
Carrying the echoes of both joy and pain.