After you left, only your shadow stayed,
Each page I write bleeds with your name.
They say no one dies of love’s absence,
But I know—I stopped living the day you were gone.
Your image lingers, etched upon my soul,
A tender portrait time can never erase.
Every memory breaks me quietly,
Every silence is filled with your voice.
I have befriended solitude,
And tied my heart to pen and paper.
For a wife, her husband is the whole universe—
And without you, mine has turned to dust.
What joy can matter,
When every breath aches for you?
So I pray to the heavens each night:
Call me home,
Let me rest where you are,
For even eternity feels too long without you.
— Your Wife
Sep 22, 2025
Sep 22, 2025 at 7:35 AM UTC
After you left, only your shadow stayed,
Each page I write bleeds with your name.
They say no one dies of love’s absence,
But I know—I stopped living the day you were gone.
Your image lingers, etched upon my soul,
A tender portrait time can never erase.
Every memory breaks me quietly,
Every silence is filled with your voice.
I have befriended solitude,
And tied my heart to pen and paper.
For a wife, her husband is the whole universe—
And without you, mine has turned to dust.
What joy can matter,
When every breath aches for you?
So I pray to the heavens each night:
Call me home,
Let me rest where you are,
For even eternity feels too long without you.
— Your Wife
💫 A grieving wife pours her soul into pages,
where every memory is a wound,
every silence echoes with love lost,
and every prayer longs for reunion beyond life.