A heart in halves sings low

the lament for a love that fell silent.

Now cleft in two,

wounded shards,

alone beneath its fate,

it wanders, ever longing,

for the half it once held.

That other half which, at dusk, without warning,

followed the road of the far horizon

and slipped from sight,

bound for nowhere.

©2026, Vasiliki Papadopoulou