He sought to fade from her mind’s embrace,
While she lingered, haunted by his trace.
Her silence, a requiem of love's defeat,
A quiet sorrow she chose not to repeat.
He dreamed of renewal, of chances untold,
But she, with fortitude, let the past grow cold.

The day you called me by her name,
Fear took root in my heart—
A quiet dread of losing us,
Of love slipping into shadows.

The flowers you once planted in the garden of my heart blossomed in the gentle cascade of your love, their vibrant petals reaching toward the light of your presence. Yet now, abandoned by the nurturing hand that gave them life, their leaves grow weary, their vitality fading. Only a few fragile petals remain, trembling on the edge of oblivion, clinging to the memory of a home where they once thrived in radiant efflorescence.

Was it a bid adieu, or merely the beginning of an infinite rendezvous? A quiet vow, sealed in silence, to wander back into the refuge of dreams where our moments linger—beneath the timeless tree that sheltered our whispers, on those solitary benches, along endless paths where our footsteps etched fleeting eternity, as if echoing our own unfinished story. To trace the delicate decay of fallen roses, decipher the faded whispers of “miss-you” notes, and relive the quiet intimacy of entwined hands. To seek the warmth of embraces and rediscover the timeless rhythm of those coffee-laden moments, where losing ourselves in one another was the only truth we ever needed.

I ache for the serene warmth of your face nestled in my lap, a quiet refuge where time halts, and peace gently carries you into a fervently awaited, contented sleep.

Oh love, do you still linger, harboring affection for me, or is it but a delicate deception—a sanctuary crafted to shield a love that dwells more profoundly within me, an enduring presence woven into the intimate depths of my being?

The loudest silence, felt by one yet unheard by others, is the quiet tremor of a heart splintered in solitude.