The Final Page

I turn the last page slowly—

edge soft, torn just enough.

Words finish but do not settle,

questions hanging in loose thread.

The story folds into silence,

room grows too big, too empty.

The spine creaks under my hand,

like a sigh caught between chapters.

Ink bleeds into the thin paper,

letters caught on the ragged edge,

waiting for a voice to return

that never comes.