In the hushed embrace of night's lament,
A woman's sigh, like a whispered hymn,
Gently flows through the dim chambers of her somber dwelling,
Cloaked in mist and solitude.
Her countenance, marked by love’s lamented art
Her locks, a fiery hue of brick red,
Aflame with the moon's tender caress, dance with the night.
Each uttered word breathes the weight of unspoken sorrow,
Painting a poignant picture of shattered dreams and waning hopes.
Once tender vows, exchanged beneath the gentle gaze of moonlight,
Now lie fractured and forgotten,
Scattered like petals of a wilting flower upon the cold, unforgiving ground.
The warmth that once kindled her heart now fades,
A flickering flame in the chill of isolation,
Casting long shadows upon the remnants of their once vibrant love.
To wound her tender heart, he embraced indifference,
Forsaking the gentle touches and whispered endearments that once bound them together.
Amidst the mournful melody of her lament,
She wanders the desolate halls of her sorrow,
Tracing the delicate contours of their unraveling bond.
Lost in the depths of her despair,
She seeks solace amidst the echoes of her longing,
Haunted by the memory of a love that now lies shattered and still.
"Am I but a shadow?" she wonders,
As the specter of his selfishness and pride looms large,
Casting doubt upon the depths of his affection,
And leaving her to ponder if she was ever truly his "one."
Her tears, like raindrops upon a barren landscape,
Echo the agony of a lost soul,
Each drop a silent testament to the pain within.
Yet amidst the darkness, a flicker of hope remains,
A glimmer of light in the depths of her despair,
Guiding her through the shadows,
Toward a new dawn of healing and renewal.
- G
