The Cost of Winning

I shouted you out, then felt silence creep in,

the walls echoed back what I thought was a win,

but trophies can shatter, like glass on the floor,

as I stood there alone, staring out through the door.

Your footsteps faded, a hollowing sound,

and the space felt colder, a crown turned to rust,

I grasped for the victory, but found only doubt,

wishing now for the calm instead of the gust.