A ballroom echoes without song,  
Where shadows waltz with ghosts unseen,  
And silence sings where I belong.  

Your touch, a whisper on the skin,  
A breeze that dances, then is gone,  
A fleeting breath in an empty room,  
The ache of dawn before the dawn.  

Lover, I’ve tasted your absence sweet,  
Like wine that’s poured from shattered clay,  
Each drop a vow that drifts away,  
Lost to a sea where echoes fray.  

What is love but a vacant sky,  
A canvas torn by wings that fled?  
What is passion but quiet dust,  
On books that whisper what’s unsaid?  

I’ve called your name in secret tongues,  
An offering to the void between,  
Where roses bloom with thorn and vine,  
And fade to ash in midnight’s sheen.