My dearest confidante, now just a ghost,
A shattered mirror of the memories we host.
A silent phone, a number I can't call,
A final curtain is closing on it all.
The echo of your laughter haunts the air,
A bitter pill of what we used to share.
The promises we whispered to the stars,
Now stand as monuments to hidden scars.
I trace the lines of what we used to be,
A fading mural of your face and me.
Each shared secret, now a heavy stone,
Weighed down by a silence I have known.
A tapestry of trust, now torn and frayed,
The colors of our bond began to fade.
I watch as strangers fill the space you left,
A hollow vessel, utterly bereft.
For in this void, a bitter truth takes root,
A love without a single, tender shoot.
The comfort of your voice, a distant chime,
A memory suspended out of time.
A fractured compass, spinning in the night,
I stumble onward, grasping for the light.
The path we walked, a road I now avoid,
A future we had promised, now destroyed.
So here I stand, upon this barren ground,
Where all our hopeful, tender words once sound.
A silent prayer for what we couldn't save,
A lonely vigil at a friendship's grave.
In this pain, a final lesson lies,
That even stars can fall from clouded skies.
Michael Powers
(STYXX ON FIRE)
