Echoes of the Empty Soul

In the stillness of a hollowed night,
Where shadows linger beyond the light,
A silence grows, an endless sea,
A quiet void that swallows me.

The stars, though bright, seem cold and far,
Each twinkling light a distant scar,
A testament to worlds unseen,
Alone, adrift, in this vast between.

The walls, they whisper, faint and low,
Echoing tales of long ago,
Of laughter, love, and fleeting grace,
Now lost within this empty space.

The clock ticks on, its steady chime,
A cruel reminder of passing time.
Each second stretches, slow and bare,
An endless ache, a lingering stare.

The wind outside, it mourns, it weeps,
Through fragile branches, its sorrow seeps.
It knows the weight of being apart,
Of yearning etched into the heart.

Loneliness wraps in its shrouded guise,
A cloak of shadows, a web of lies.
It whispers doubts, it plants the seed,
Of worthlessness and aching need.

Yet in the dark, a spark may gleam,
A fleeting hope, a fragile dream.
For even in the depths so vast,
This too shall fade; no pain will last.

Loneliness, a transient guest,
A heavy heart put to the test.
But from its grip, we rise, we grow,
And find the light we used to know.