Love Doesn’t Leave (Poem)

In rooms where silence used to sleep,

Now whispers roam and secrets keep.

A creaking board, a quiet tread—

The echoes of the love long dead.

Two souls once lost in twilight’s breath,

Still dancing through the hands of death.

Their laughter lingers in the walls,

Like faded paint in shadowed halls.

She came with wounds too deep to show,

Afraid to feel, too tired to grow.

Yet every night, the spirits stayed,

And love, through haunting, softly prayed.

No screams, no chains, no ghostly fright—

Just warmth that flickered in the night.

They held her heart without a touch,

And taught her how to feel that much.

She left a note, a final tear,

A thank-you none alive could hear.

And in return, the light still gleams—

A quiet proof that love redeems.

So if you pass that old brownstone,

Where stairs still creak when no one’s home—

Remember: not all ghosts must grieve.

Some stay behind because they believe.