In lunar cycles passed, not mere days or weeks,
A month has waned since last we spoke,
But alas, no signal in this barren air,
No message from you, no solace fair,
I shared my longing, my heart laid bare,
Yet silence echoes, in this void, a snare.

I bared my soul, a beacon bright,
Yet your shadow eludes my searching sight,
When will dawn break on our souls again?
When your tears flow for another, not mine?

When will you reach out, in your hour of need,
Asking after me, yet craving my heed?
When will this silence relent, and speak,
To soothe this heart, grown tired and weak?

Yet, a flicker of hope in your silent reply,
A message, a memory, though brief and shy,
I cling to these fragments, amidst the dark,
Though weary, I still carry this spark.

But fatigue creeps in, as shadows grow long,
Gaslit by my own yearning song,
I falter, I fade, as the days persist,
Longing for your touch, I softly insist.