Fading Echoes

I still listen your chuckling in purge corridors,

a phantom of a cherish that time reviews.

Your touch, once warm, presently waits cold,

a story cleared out half-truth, half-told.

The stars we tallied have misplaced their light,

blurring like whispers into the night.

I reach for you in dreams so profound,

as it were to wake, alone, to sob.

In case cherish was our own, where did it go?

Was it the wind, a brief appearance?

Or was it genuine, however destined to kick the bucket,

a fire that burned, at that point said farewell?