He's already drifting into shadow.
Fading...
until one day he will become memory and song.

Perhaps he'll always be this empty place in my chest,
forever aching for a harmony I never had the privilege to know.

This space between seems so deep,
or maybe its wide...
it is not as vast as the ocean,
or as endless as the sky.

It's almost like a book I will never finish.
A scent I will never place.
A song I will never hear.
A feeling I'll never fully know.

Whispers always asking if he misses me too.
The beauty of music slightly dimmed with his absence.
But it is now just a broken lullaby,
and I could never find all the forgotten words..