In shadows deep where silence dwells,  

A heart once bright, now softly swells,  

With whispers lost in time's cruel hand,  

A tale of dreams that slipped like sand.  


The garden wild, once lush and green,  

Now tangled weeds where hope has been,  

The flowers fade, their colors pale,  

As echoes of laughter drift and sail.  


A chair sits empty by the fire,  

Its warmth replaced by cold desire,  

The books untouched, their pages worn,  

Each story waits, forlorn, forlorn.  


The clock ticks on, a steady beat,  

Yet moments pass, incomplete,  

For in the corners, dust collects,  

A testament to love neglects.  


But in the quiet, seeds may grow,  

From cracks in stone, new life can show,  

For even in the darkest night,  

A spark can flicker, find the light.  


So let us tend to what we’ve lost,  

Rekindle flames, no matter the cost,  

For in the heart that dares to care,  

Neglect can bloom, and love can share.