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Morning light spills down the page
In a manor locked with age
Dusty volumes, leather-bound
Where my silent thoughts are found
My favorite books, my sheltered grace
In every word, I see your face
Among the shelves, you never left
A whisper in the paper’s breath
Echoes dance on polished floors
Curtains part like open doors
I read aloud to empty chairs
Still feel your ghost in autumn air
Some stories end, some stories stay
Ink won’t ever fade away
You were a chapter, sweet and strange—
Marked in gold, untouched by change
My favorite books, my quiet shrine
A New Year’s day outside of time
You turned the page and now you’re gone
But in my hands, you carry on
