Silent Ink Of Words Not Used

In the quiet rooms where words once danced,

A silence falls, a somber trance.

The camaraderie that fueled our pens,

Now a memory, fading, as it ends.

Yet, all things change, the adage goes,

As seasons shift, the north wind blows.

The group that gathered, hearts aflame,

Scatters now, not one the same.

The empty chair, the silent room,

Echoes quietly in my gloom

The critique, the praise, the gentle jest,

Now lay quiet, in our chests.

So, I’ll cherish the memories of our time,

In every verse, in every rhyme.

Though we part, within me stays,

The gift of words, and their embrace.

Farewell, dear friends of ink and lore,

Our paths diverge, yet hold so much more.

In every line, a trace of thee,

In the intricate map of memory.