Where the Shadows Breathe

Your voice once lit the chambers of my mind,

a lantern swaying gently in the deep.

Yet shadows lengthened every time I tried

to guard the fragile flame I could not keep.

The warmth of memory flickers, then it fades,

a ghostly ember burning through the years;

it brightens joy, yet sorrow still invades,

a glow made sharper by the edge of tears.

Between the dream and echo lies the truth:

that love is neither wholly dark nor clear,

it wears the silver mask of fleeting youth,

and whispers both of longing and of fear.

So let me hold the light though night is near,

a candle trembling, yet unbroken here.