The Night We Met

The moon hung high and cold that night, A lonely, distant, silver light. My heart, a fragile, brittle thing, Felt the sharp edge of sorrow sting. You spoke of futures, dreams you spun, But in your eyes, no love had won. A whisper soft, a hollow sound, Where deeper feelings should be found. Each word you spoke, a gentle blow, That made my wounded spirit low. I saw the truth, a sudden flash, A future built on love's slow ash. Your absence was the loudest plea, That you would never truly see. The cracks appeared, then spread so wide, With nowhere left for me to hide. The hurt you dealt, a steady rain, Washing away all hope and gain. And in that silence, stark and deep, My own sad promise I did keep. To turn my back, to walk away, And find a brighter, healing day.