The Room With No Light
In the corner, a chair that remembers all.
Its fabric worn thin by prayer and time.
Dust gathers softly on the edges of the air,
and something unseen hums beneath the quiet.
A candle once burned here, slow and faithful,
but even the wax gave up its shape.
The shadows still kneel where the flame once was,
folding their hands in silence.
Outside, the rain presses its face to the glass,
as if trying to be let in.
It does not know that sorrow already lives here,
and that it too has learned to whisper.
Night bends around the house,
gentle and cruel at once.
I breathe, and the air remembers grief,
but it does not let me forget.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
Keep reading
More stories from Marie381Uk and writers in Poets and other communities.
Comments (1)
What a way to remember a loved one. Good job.