Love Letters To the Wind
The heart is a hollow vessel,
aching with the weight of love lost.
In the depths of solitude,
I find myself drowning in memories,
gasping for a breath of your presence.
The bed we once shared
now a cold, desolate wasteland.
The echoes of laughter
replaced by the silence of longing.
A ghostly touch lingers,
haunting the spaces between.
I trace the contours of your absence,
seeking solace in the remnants
of our shattered dreams.
But the more I grasp,
the more the fragments slip away,
leaving me with nothing but shadows.
The nights are restless,
tormented by visions of what once was.
The moon weeps silver tears,
reflecting the sorrow etched upon my face.
I reach for the stars,
hoping to catch a glimpse of your smile,
but they mock me with their distant glow.
I drink from the cup of nostalgia,
intoxicated by the bittersweet taste
of what we used to be.
But the intoxication fades,
leaving behind a bitter aftertaste,
a reminder of the love that slipped through my fingers.
Yet, amidst the sorrow,
a flicker of hope remains.
In the darkest corners of my heart,
a tiny ember of love endures.
I nurture it with tender care,
knowing that even the smallest flame
can ignite a wildfire of passion.
So, I write love letters to the wind,
whispering my deepest desires
in hopes that they find their way to you.
I pen verses of longing,
scribbling my soul onto the pages,
hoping that somehow, someway,
you will feel my love in every word.
Though we may be separated,
our souls are forever entwined,
the essence of our love transcends
the boundaries of time and space.
In the tapestry of our intertwined fates,
the threads of love and loss
weave a story of resilience,
a testament to the power of a heart
that refuses to stop loving.
And so, I continue to write,
to pour my heart onto the parchment,
knowing that in the act of creation,
I find healing.
Through each stroke of the pen,
I carve a path towards acceptance,
embracing the beauty that remains
in the tapestry of our love,
even in the face of its absence.
Love, though fleeting,
leaves an indelible mark,
a reminder that we are capable
of both profound joy and profound pain.
In the symphony of love and loss,
I find the courage to carry on,
to keep writing the verses
that honor the love we shared,
and the love that forever resides
in the chambers of my soul.
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