In the shadows of a love forlorn,
A young man’s heart lies tattered, torn,
A symphony of silent screams,
Where shattered hopes and broken dreams
Paint a portrait of despair,
Each stroke a whisper, cold and bare.

Once, his heart with fervor beat,
In the presence of a love so sweet,
But now he walks a path alone,
In fields where joy has overgrown,
And every step is laced with grief,
A testament to love’s cruel thief.

Her eyes, once stars that lit his night,
Now haunt him in the fading light,
Her touch, a ghost upon his skin,
Reminds him of the love within,
Yet out of reach, a cruel jest,
That leaves his soul forever pressed.

He weeps for days that never came,
For whispered vows, now lost to flame,
For every kiss, a fleeting breath,
For love that met an early death.
In echoes of her laughter’s song,
He finds a place he can't belong.

Oh, cruel fate, that spun this tale,
Where love is lost and dreams grow pale,
He wanders through a world of gray,
In search of dawn that fades away,
For in his heart, a war is waged,
Between the love he lost and rage.

Yet even in this twilight hour,
He feels the ghost of love's sweet power,
A glimmer in the darkest night,
A spark that holds the promise of light,
For though he’s torn, and though he’s scarred,
He still holds love’s fragile shard.

And so he stands, though bent by pain,
A victim of love’s endless reign,
With silent hope that time might heal,
And teach his heart once more to feel,
That even in despair’s deep sea,
There lies a chance to once be free.
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© Akshay_pangottil