In the corners of the heart,
There dwells a quiet ache,
A love unbound, untethered,
Seeking a home in the vast emptiness.
Grief, they call it,
But it's love's echo,
Reverberating through the hollowed chambers
Where joy once lived and breathed.
It's the whispered name in the silence,
The ghost of laughter in the wind,
A relentless yearning for a touch,
A voice that will never come.
Tears fall, not as a sign of weakness,
But as love's unspent currency,
Flowing freely, carving paths
Through landscapes of memories.
In every sigh, in every pause,
Grief weaves its tapestry,
Threads of sorrow intertwined with love,
A poignant reminder of what once was.
And so, we carry it, this tender burden,
Love with no place to go,
Finding solace in the bittersweet truth
That to grieve is to have loved deeply.