Echoes of a Lost Love

I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. On nights like this, I held her close, kissed her over and over beneath an endless sky. She loved me sometimes, and I loved her too. How could anyone resist loving her beautiful, still eyes?

Tonight, I can write the saddest lines: to think that I no longer have her, to feel the weight of losing her. The immense night seems even more vast without her presence, and my verses fall from my soul like dew falling on grass. What does it matter that my love couldn’t keep her? The night is starry, but she is not here with me.

All of this is distant now, like a song carried by the wind. My soul isn’t content with losing her, it yearns, reaching out as if to pull her closer. My heart searches for her, but she is not with me. The same night shines down, illuminating the same trees, but we are no longer who we once were.

I no longer love her that’s for sure. But oh, how I loved her! My voice reaches out to the wind, hoping it might touch her somehow. She belongs to another now, just as she once belonged to me. Her voice, her radiant body, her endless eyes they’re no longer mine.

I no longer love her, I know that. But maybe, just maybe, a part of me still does. Love is so short, but forgetting takes so long. Because on nights like this, I remember holding her in my arms, and my soul cannot accept that she is gone.

Though this may be the last pain she causes me, and these the final verses I write for her, I let them flow one last time: the echo of a love that lingers, the sadness of a heart that still whispers her name in the quiet of the night.