In the quiet of the night, where shadows softly creep,

A heart once full of laughter now lies shattered, lost in sleep.

Whispers of your memory dance like ghosts upon the wall,

Each echo a reminder of the love that had to fall.


Once we painted dreams in colors bold and bright,

Now the canvas is a canvas of a love that lost its light.

The promises we made, like fragile glass, now break,

And every tear that falls is a reminder of the ache.


The stars we wished upon have dimmed, their glow now faint,

In the gallery of heartache, I’m the artist and the paint.

Each stroke a silent story, each hue a silent scream,

In the portrait of our love, I’m lost within the dream.


I wander through the memories, a ghost in my own past,

Searching for the pieces of a love that couldn’t last.

The laughter that once filled the air now echoes in the void,

And in the silence, I confront the heart that’s been destroyed.


Yet in this brokenness, a flicker starts to rise,

A glimmer of resilience beneath the tear-streaked skies.

For though the heart is fractured, it still beats, it still yearns,

And in the ashes of the past, a new flame slowly burns.


So I’ll gather up the pieces, though they cut me deep inside,

And learn to love the scars that tell of how I tried.

For every broken heart can mend, with time and tender care,

And in the end, I’ll find my strength, a love beyond despair.