Beneath the hum of steel, a low hymn wove,
The scent of coal and damp wool thick in the air,
We lingered—two lives held in time’s alcove,
A fragile stillness, fleeting, rare.

Her laughter rippled, soft as falling rain,
A river carving silent paths through stone.
Each word she spoke ignited bright and plain,
Fireflies flickering where dreams had grown.

Beside the berth, her gaze a distant star,
She searched horizons I could never see.
I, the earth, steadfast yet scarred,
Held her shadow’s weight invisibly.

My roots stretched deep beneath the swaying floor,
Anchored to the tremor of her turning.
Yet she walked lightly, seeking something more,
A restless spark forever burning.

Years flowed like rivers, eroding my form,
Her joys my lodestar, her pain my tide.
Through storms unspoken, I weathered the swarm,
Bound to her light, a shadow in its wake.

Now she dances in the arms of a ghost,
A love rekindled, distant, untamed.
I stand, her silent host,
A quiet witness, never claimed.

Her glance, the moonlight grazing mountain peaks,
Her words, small stones skipped across a lake.
Each touch of hers, a song my soul still seeks,
Though each refrain leaves a tender ache.

The earth quakes as her footsteps fade,
A landscape shifting beneath her flight.
Her memory blooms where her shadows wade,
A garden of quiet, shadowed light.

~Srijan