The clock ticks slow, a lonely sound,
Each second echoes, empty, profound.
A silent room, a vacant chair,
Where laughter once was, now only despair.

The shadows lengthen, stretching long,
A haunting whisper of what's gone wrong.
A single tear, a silent plea,
For someone, anyone, to simply see.

The world outside, a bustling scene,
But here, within, a heart unseen.
A longing grows, a silent ache,
For a hand to hold, a word to take.

The moon hangs high, a lonely light,
Reflecting back the endless night.
A silent prayer, a whispered sigh,
For solace found, before I die.