The Hollow Victory

The shouting stopped,

a sudden break, a hard-edged sound.

Then the silence dropped,

and clung, a heavy shroud.

I heard it from next door,

the neighbors' voices, sharp and thin.

Then quiet, nothing more.

And that's when it truly sank in.

Winning, sometimes, feels like this:

a space left empty, cold and stark.

A stolen, bitter, hollow kiss.

And the light, it changed, left its dark mark.