The melody of morning birds, once a joyous serenade,

Now echoes a love lost, a heart tattered and frayed.

We’d wake tangled in sunlight, your smile the waking dawn,

But now, these empty sheets whisper of what has gone.

The world spins on its axis, oblivious to my plight,

Bathed in the same sunshine, yet shrouded in endless night.

Each chirp a memory, a fluttering of your touch,

A bittersweet symphony reminding me of so much.

Though tears may fall like rain, a solace I receive,

In their melody I hear you, whispering, “I believe.”

I hear your laughter each and every time the soft wind blows,

Because still today, the song of the birds can be heard outside the window.