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Poem

Under the sky like an ancient parchment, etched with falling stars,
I told her I would be the shadow of the tree under which dreams rest,
I said I would be the place where tears turn into butterflies,
That I would be the silence that embraces the echo of extinguished pains.
But when she came, carrying a universe of storms in her eyes,
I was a stone tree, frozen in my own existence,
No word escaped, no gesture disturbed the air,
Just a glass void, a silence rolling like a frozen river.
My promises, sculpted in clouds of light, shattered,
I spoke them with the voice of the wind, but couldn't hold them in my palms,
I discovered I am just a shadow before the rising sun,
Crushed under the weight of words that turned to sand.
In the depths of her eyes lay a bird with broken wings,
And in my silence, betrayal wove its web like a silent spider,
She murmured... it's okay, like a leaf gently falling to the ground,
And I, I looked into that ‘okay,’ seeing all I had not become.
I saw how I failed to be a beacon in the night, an anchor of words,
Remaining trapped in the flight of a promise that found no destination,
In a universe where words scatter like waves of sand,
Leaving only silence to be the echo of an unfinished song.

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