Whispers drift through midnight air,
Air so heavy with silent prayer.
Prayer that lingers on broken lips,
Lips trembling from love that slips.

Slips like sand through fragile hands,
Hands once strong, now lost in strands.
Strands of time weave fate’s cruel art,
Art of mending a shattered heart.

Heart beats slow in moon’s embrace,
Embrace the void, the empty space.
Space where echoes fade to none,
None remain, yet love is one.