Echoes of Us

Returning to rooms that once cradled our dreams,

I wander through echoes, where silence now teems.

This house stripped bare, the laughter now drained,

only shadows and dust mark where love once remained.

A cracked window sways, with the wind comes the chill,

memories linger like ghosts on the sill.

Each corner a story, now muted, forlorn,

replacing the warmth with a heaviness worn.

Nostalgia bites deeply, a bittersweet sting,

as I pack up the memories, ready to fling.