I'm afraid that there's
nothing left.
I'm afraid that meaning
is surely fading —
Dulled by absence.
A slow burning ember,
That was once an inferno.
This stage —
Once brimming with joy,
Holds now only silhouettes,
Ghosts.
Tender echoes.
Love letters returned,
Unread.
Counterfeit,
Plagiarised —
Empty.
This is how the world ends.
Without you.