The Sonnet of Shadows

Beneath a silver flame, our hearts ignite,

yet shadows linger, pressed against the wall.

Your laughter shines—a lantern in the night,

but silence waits, a darker shade to fall.

The warmth of touch can burn as much as heal,

a fleeting spark that flickers, then it wanes.

The brightest star conceals the void we feel,

its brilliance stitched with undertones of pain.

Yet still I choose the dusk as much as dawn,

for every glow must cast its veiled disguise.

The sweetest song is mournful when it’s gone,

the clearest truth still hides in tender lies.

So love becomes both candle and the smoke,

a fragile flame the darkness never broke.