In the depths of my despairing night,
His memory is a cruel, sharp bite.
Three months of love, now lost to time,
A fleeting joy turned bitter crime.
His laughter, now a mournful ghost,
A haunting sound I fear the most.
His touch, once warm, now cold as stone,
A hollow ache when I'm alone.
We built our dreams on fragile air,
But fate...
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