Glassy windows stare, a house stands, holding in wait,
For a love that never came, sealed by cruel fate.
On the wind, whispers of promises fly,
For the heart that yearned, through many seasons,
Beneath the unchanging, silent sky.
He waited, aged, with a love that wouldn’t fade,
Waiting for his lover, who left him,
Until his last breath, she never came back.
She left him with a silence, a love on the wing.
The journal whispers a tale of love untold,
Of a heart that waited for its love,
And a life that grew old,
Remaining within the household until found.
Now only echoes linger, in a house by the shore,
Two souls, bound together, though forevermore apart.
Their love remained, in the breeze, passing in and out of the house.
The traveler closed the journal,
Feeling the deep longing and sadness from the dead man.
He sought to find the truth, to let the dead be at peace.
Learning the lover of the man left to find a cure for her fragile heart,
But it was too late for her fragile heart; she couldn’t come home.
And even at the last beats of her heart,
She called out to the man she left at home.

—ancn.