— Have you come again? Or is this just the night playing with shadows?
I no longer count your steps, my love.
I am left only with the touch of cold dust
And the rustle of your thoughts, frozen in stone.
— I did not come from heaven or hell, my beloved.
I am from the silence that settled between prayer and whisper.
Did you call? I heard how your yearning
Seeped through to me through the cracks of the grave.
— Called? Oh, if only I still had a voice…
Do you remember my laughter? It was light as the wind.
Now I am a forgotten chord in an old organ,
That no one dares to touch anymore.
— I remember everything.
Your hands, now cold, once held the sun itself.
Now, only the memory of your whisper
Warms the fragment of a heart that has not yet decayed.
— Did we not once make a vow:
“Even death is not the end”?
— We made it. And we fulfilled it.
I have neither lived nor died. I am simply near.
Every time the night closes the eyes of the world,
I hear how your soul searches for mine in the darkness.
— Then stay. And I beg you, do not be silent.
Tell me about everything you see up there.
Because here… there is nothing but darkness and memories.
— I see the flowers we never planted.
I see the children who were never meant to be born.
I see our life as it was supposed to be…
But even this emptiness is not as terrible
As leaving you alone again in this mute silence.
— Then do not go. Just sit beside me.
Even in death, one can be two.
Even here, in the depths of the earth – we still tremble together.
— I will not go.
My “forever” began right here.