There is a room where shadows grow, A quiet space I used to know, Where golden light and laughter stayed, Before the vivid details frayed. I catch the scent of summer rain, A sudden, sharp, familiar pain, A phantom melody takes flight, Then vanishes into the night. A face is blurred beneath the tide, Of all the years I tried to hide, A name that used to shake my floor, Now leaves no footprint at the door. The shelf is bare, the pages turned, The bridges altogether burned, I hold the outline of a ghost, And lose the thing I loved the most. It drifts away like morning mist, A secret place that can't exist, A locked-up box without a key, A piece of you, a piece of me.
