This callous night
Has no regrets
Love has died
And pain reflects
Its shadow dark
Upon the floor
Of an empty room
We are no more.
This quiet night
Its voice is mute
Its sorrow framed
Heartache acute
With silent steps
Upon memories trail
Hand in hand
No longer brave.
Moments whisper
Hours melt
Remembering how
Once it felt
As if the walls
Of life to fall
Now distant is
My lonely call.
-
Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Online) - Published: September 3rd, 2026 02:16
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 29
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
Online)
Comments5
A fine write N. A lonely wait for you at that bus stop. All the other passengers gave up and went home. lol.
Oh lol, I read of a rusty bus stop being replaced in a village that has no bus service. They say 'It's in case buses do run here again!' Bit like you waiting there. lol.
I am all alone and forgot my flask and sandwiches, I live in hope of no 7 lol
Loss and memories promote pain in this write Norman. It is felt by the reader and there is a sadness to it. A sadness in its loneliness. Nicely written my friend.
thanks always much appreciated
Most welcome Norman
What a haunting piece, Norman. The stillness, passing hours, and remembered closeness all deepen the sense of a voice calling into a place where love no longer answers...quietly devastating and beautifully written, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
most kind my friend thanks and appreciation
A most moving read my friend 🙏🏻🕊️
many thanks much appreciated
Most welcome dear friend 🙏🏻🕊️
Very emotive words Norman.
Andy
thanks for read always much appreciated friend
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