Hollow Tendrils

The key turns heavy, a sigh against the lock,
No answering hum, just the silent ticking clock.
The air, a hollow vessel where your presence used to bloom,
Now just an echo where a gentle warmth consumed.

[Chorus]
This quiet ache, a tendril through the floor,
Unwinds through rooms, you're not here anymore.

[Verse 2]
Rain-streaked pane reflects the streetlights' hazy gleam,
A hidden fountain murmurs through a waking dream.
Each forgotten object, a relic claiming space,
A brittle husk where memories refuse to erase.

[Chorus]
This quiet ache, a tendril through the floor,
Unwinds through rooms, you're not here anymore.

[Bridge]
The city breathes its humid, distant sigh,
While glass-winged whispers settle, soft and low, inside.
My heart, an aged wood, absorbing time's slow turn,
Where beauty in this quiet absence starts to burn.

[Outro]
A fissure in the solace, deep and bittersweet,
The silent garden where our memories still meet.