A Hollow Flame

I built a fire within my chest,
A love that burned without request,
Its embers spoke of hope so high,
A dream I chased, a blatant lie.

Your gaze, a tempest, wild and cold,
Held promises I couldn't hold,
Each fleeting glance, a thread of grace,
That tied my soul to your embrace.

I offered all, a ceaseless stream,
To fill the void of your esteem,
Yet every gift, each aching plea,
Was lost to depths too dark to see.

I craved a love that knew no bounds,
But silence answered, hollow sounds,
A hunger gnawed within my chest,
Unfed, it grew—a cruel jest.

You spoke in half-truths, fleeting sighs,
A fleeting warmth, a fleeting guise,
And I, the fool, could not let go,
Though every touch left scars to show.

I drowned in seas of could-have-been,
Where tides erased the light within,
Each wave a sharp reminder sent,
Of love misplaced, of time misspent.

I screamed your name into the night,
But stars blinked back with empty light,
They bore no answers, gave no peace,
Just whispers of a dream’s release.

How do I mend a heart like mine,
Fractured, splintered by design?
For love, when one stands all alone,
Is not a gift—it’s just a stone.

So now I stand with aching breath,
A fire dimmed, a love near death,
And though my soul still burns for you,
I must let go—what else is true?

For love that chains, that does not mend,
Is not a love—it’s just the end.