“After the Last Song”

The trombone was silent.
Sheet music lay scattered
across the room of your heart.
Its trembling beat
outpaced the rhythm of the night.
Your voice searched the silence,
while your soul rested
in love’s darkest corner.

Every silence now feels too loud.
The ghosts of tomorrow
have become your only comfort.
Your voice still echoes
through the empty room.
Even when the night is through,
I still hear the sound of you.
Every cry,
every tear,
becomes another memory
of a love slowly fading.