Shadows of a Song

The shadows drift at night,

when silence owns the room,

at 2 AM when hearts

recall what once had bloomed.

A melody still hums,

though broken by the years—

a hymn of clasped hands,

now drowned in salted tears.

She dreams of laughter’s glow,

his warmth not long forgot;

their voices once entwined

still linger in one spot.

The reel of memory spins,

unfading, soft, and near;

phantoms walk beside them,

reminding what was dear.

But time will not reverse,

nor mend the severed thread.

The prayers they wove together

still rise though hope seems dead.

Only Heaven’s gaze

can trace the hidden scar,

the whispers left unspoken,

the distance grown too far.

Yet somewhere in the dark,

their names still intertwine—

not in this fleeting world,

but in God’s vast design.

So now they fold their hands,

and let the silence sing:

love that earth divided,

Heaven’s grace may bring.