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ASHES AND RAIN

By Vera Von Monika

Smoke curls through the hollow air,
a phantom trace of what we used to be.
Bullets of memory pierce the night,
each one a word we never said,
each one a heartbeat left behind.

Raindrops drum on broken glass,
a rhythm of loss, sharp and cold.
I chase your shadow through the streets,
but every turn dissolves in mist,
every echo swallowed by the storm.

Your laughter lingers like gunfire,
fading but relentless,
and I taste it in the rain,
bitter as iron, sweet as pain.

I gather fragments of a vanished sky,
your eyes, a flash in the smoke,
your voice, a wound that bleeds itself
into the hollow chambers of my chest.

No surrender. No escape.
Only the rain, the bullets, the smoke
and me, standing in the ruins,
still breathing, still burning,
still carrying the weight of love
that ended before it began.

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