When the Light Forgot My Name
A poem about fading memories and the ache of silence.

The wind no longer whispers me your name,
The stars don’t flicker quite the same.
The sky is wide, yet far too still,
Since you are gone, and time won’t heal.
Your laughter used to fill the halls,
Now echoes hide behind the walls.
The clock ticks loud in empty space,
But never dares to touch your face.
I walk the rooms you once walked too,
But shadows don’t do justice to you.
Your teacup sits beside the sink,
Untouched, unloved — afraid to blink.
The photographs are turning gray,
Their colors lost to yesterday.
And every frame that holds your smile,
Feels heavier with every mile.
You didn’t leave with storm or sound,
Just silence falling all around.
Like winter’s breath on autumn’s flame,
You disappeared — but left your name.
The world still spins, they say it should,
I breathe, I eat, I stand, I could.
But all of me was made of you —
And what’s a body when it’s two?
I read the notes you used to write,
Ink faded, but the words still fight.
They wrestle with the things unsaid,
The dreams we dreamt, the tears we shed.
I wish I told you one more time
That you were always worth the climb.
I wish I stayed when you grew small,
Held your hand through every fall.
The day you left, I swear it rained
Inside my soul — the ache remained.
No thunder cracked, no lightning came,
Just quiet skies that felt like shame.
Your perfume lingers on the sheet,
A ghost that walks on cotton feet.
I lie awake where you once lay,
And whisper things I didn’t say.
I see you sometimes in my dreams —
In half-formed thoughts, in fractured scenes.
You laugh, you scold, you hold me close,
And vanish with the morning’s ghost.
I try to find you in the breeze,
In rustling leaves and aching trees.
I close my eyes to catch your hum,
But all I hear is silence come.
And still I set your chair at tea,
Though no one sips, no one but me.
I talk to you in quiet tones,
Pretending we are not alone.
Some say the heart forgets with time,
But mine still beats your lullaby.
Each thump, a memory in disguise —
A whispered tear behind my eyes.
And if someday I too must fade,
Let me lie where you were laid.
Not for the stone, or names engraved,
But for the warmth your memory gave.
For love like yours does not decay —
It lingers, soft, and finds its way.
And though you’re gone, you still remain,
In every dusk, in every rain.
About the Creator
muqaddas shura
"Every story holds an emotion.
I bring those emotions to you through words."
I bring you heart-touching stories .Some like fragrance, some like silent tears, and some like cherished memories. Within each story lies a new world ,new feelings.
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