Eclipsed Echoes.

We built our tomorrows with trembling hands,

Wearing promises like wedding bands of dawn,

Yet somewhere between our laughter’s pause,

A hush began to haunt the edges of your eyes,

And I mistook it for peace, not pain.

The moon knew what I didn’t —

That silence is a wound that bleeds without red.

Your words became feathers floating nowhere,

And your smile, a curtain hiding slow goodbyes,

While I sang to ghosts of our engagement.

I sent you poems wrapped in unasked questions,

But your replies came in echoes too faint to hold.

The wind carried your absence like a letter,

Stamped with something the living can’t deliver,

And still, I waited at the altar of denial.

Your laughter had once been the rhythm of rain,

Now it fell in whispers against my chest.

Leukemia — your hidden thief of hours —

Was sipping light from your veins in secret,

While I mistook your stillness for healing.

How foolish the heart that prays without listening,

That calls your quiet a form of grace.

I thought love could outshout the grave,

But love has no volume against destiny’s door,

Only echoes that ache long after footsteps fade.

They said you left in your sleep, serene,

But I know silence wrote your final song.

I read your absence in the folds of dawn,

Each sunrise a confession I was too late to hear,

Each dusk a whisper of unfinished vows.

Now your name sleeps beneath marbled hush,

And I, the fool who feared awkward quiet,

Have learned the cost of not hearing pain.

For sometimes the loudest heartbreak speaks no words —

Sometimes we don't realise that silence can be the last conversation.