This silence, it returns, it haunts.
It reflects on the pool of the past.
It travels the hollows of promises,
The shallows of trust, of love.

This silence, my friend of past, today
I stare blankly at its new familiarity.
What had once left me, returns today
A familiar pain emerges in the heart.

The inescapable tragedy of love
Now playing in the theatre of absurd.
Then, there was the shade of dark death
Today I am naked in the snide sun.