In every silent moment, sorrow's heavy chain, remains,
A heart, once vibrant, now burdened by unspoken pains, remains.

The world may turn, and seasons shift, yet nothing truly gains,
But the dull ache of existence, through all its bitter strains, remains.

Through tear-streaked eyes, a muted world, where hope no longer reigns,
Only the imprint of lost laughter, like faint, forgotten stains, remains.

The broken dreams, like scattered dust, on life's desolate terrains,
Where joy's bright promise withers, and only the empty space, remains.

This poet's soul, within its lonely vigil, forever trains,
A testament to grief, where memory's haunting refrain, remains.