In the echo of a hollow room,
A silence that swallows the moon,
Emptiness weaves its quiet loom,
Threads of night spun all too soon.

Eyes search the shadowed expanse,
Fingers trace the absence of chance,
Whispers of what was never there,
Drift like ghosts through thinning air.

Time drips slow, a languid fall,
Marking spaces between the all,
Words unspoken, an endless call,
In the void, where echoes sprawl.

A heartbeat, faint, against the black,
Yearns for something it can’t track,
In the emptiness, a fragile spark,
Seeking light in the endless dark.