Half a Line, Still Burning

This ghazal explores the aftermath of love like a smoldering echo. It speaks from the space between memory and absence, where dreams, shadows, and fragments of self remain. It is a quiet ache woven into language, held only by the wind and whispered loss.

Nothing of you remains—except midnight dreams,

And tears that stain the fabric of wordless themes.

You passed one night and set my soul aflame,

Still I burn, in silence, whispering your name.

No one but the breeze dared speak of you,

And I—still bound by longing I never outgrew.

If only you could see what your leaving left behind:

My dust of memory, my shadow, and half a line.