Echoes

The house still hums with echoes faint, Of laughter lost and whispered saint, Yet every step I take alone Still leads me where you once called home. The window holds your shadow’s trace, A fleeting ghost, a softer face — The air still smells like autumn rain, And every drop repeats your name. The kettle sings a song for two, But silence answers — not from you. The chair you loved, the one you’d claim, Still waits, but never feels the same. I speak to walls that never hear, I guard your memory, year by year. The world moves on, as worlds will do, But half my soul still clings to you. I fold the sheets you’ll never warm, I chase the past through every storm. And though I know you’re gone — you’re free — Your absence still belongs to me. For love does not just fade or part, It builds a grave inside the heart. And in that grave, I lay my prayer: To meet you where the shadows wear.