Thy Love Will Always Be There

No more walks with the echo of your words,

No more talks encased in verses—

The kiss that greeted the dawn,

Now another quiet ghost among the days.

 

We part, fragments of whispers left behind,

Our laughter clutches at time like a fading lifeline

But love—that treacherous bird—flew lopsided,

Limping with one wing in your heart.

 

Down on my knees, your memory—

A pristine beach before storms gathered.

I heard the crush of roses underfoot,

The bleed of red against the weeping sky.

 

They say even God nurses a bruised heart,

Crimson sorrow leaking through celestial wounds.

Yet here in the hollow of loss, a flicker:

Is love's end its death—or its chrysalis?

 

From ash, I rise to admit the sting,

A benediction for us both in the smoke.

There, in the quiet after the fire,

Your name—a prayer. Always there, old friend