Unanswered Calls

Tonight, the doorbell rings, a sharp sound of hope,

I stand in the dark, caught in the slope

of longing and silence, a hollow that grows,

who waits on the other side, no one really knows.

Each chime echoes back, just a specter at play,

half-hoping for someone to brighten the gray.

Yet silence clings tight, heavy blankets of dread,

the door stands ajar, but it’s me instead.

The shadow stretches long, in the void, I remain,

a pulse of the unanswered, a whisper of pain.

What if someone needed, could I ease their fall?

But here in the quiet, I hear nothing at all.