Loneliness fell like a whisper,
waiting for you in the hush of cold air.
A sorrowful longing, brittle as frost,
mist weaving its veil around the world.
The man whose eyes I once kissed—
gone.
Left like footprints on an old field road,
fading, yet the wounds he carved
ran deep, deeper than time itself.
I once believed that roads
were meant to grow shorter.
But this—
this defied all reason, all gravity.
The closer I came,
the farther you drifted…
Beril Yabar
