In the quiet somber night, where whispers dwell,

The heart's soft light begins to swell.

A tender beam, refracted through,

A prism of tears, as sorrows brew.

Reflections dance in the mirror's face,

Echoes of love, a slowly fading trace.

Yet in each shard, the truth does bend,

As gravity's pull brings light to end.

For love, like light, can curve around,

A heart's vast gravity, profound.

But in the bending, something's lost,

A spectral cost, too high the cost.

So here I stand, in love's dim glow,

Where reflections of what was still show.

And though the light bends at my will,

The empty space, it haunts me still.