Alone in my room, the clock strikes one. I close my eyes, and there she is, as if she’s still here. I feel sick again, caught in the cruel grip of autumn, missing the sound of her bangles, the soft, rhythmic chime that once filled my world. I am so alone, so lost in this hollow space. Come to me again, I plead.
The darkness surrounds me, the room silent and still. The curtains remain drawn, the light never reaching me. I am lifeless, drifting through this emptiness, longing for the spark she once gave me. Come back and bring life to me again. I am dead inside, numb like the leaves that fall, crumbling and forgotten.
Caress my hair, sing me to sleep, I beg. Give me the touch of your fingers once more, that simple, tender touch that meant everything. Photographs, the pages of my diary, they weep for what’s lost. The colors of my life have faded. I need you to paint it with your brilliance again, to make it whole.
The flowers in the vase are wilted, the candles have melted into nothingness. The walls of my room echo with the silence, yearning for the sound of your lullaby, the song your bangles used to sing. The rocking chair stands still, waiting for the music of your presence. For God’s sake, come to me again.
If only I could sacrifice a thousand lives for just a single moment with you. The love in your eyes, the warmth of your shawl—my pain fades with a mere touch of you. All I ask is that you dedicate it to me, to come to me again.