The Art Of Never Letting Go Poem by Asim Baadshah

I kept your voice in hidden rooms,
Among old books and faint perfumes.
The world moved on without your name,
Yet I was never quite the same.

I taught my wounded heart to stay,
Though pieces of it slipped away.
For some hearts love beyond goodbye,
They carry ghosts they can't deny.

Your echoes wander through the rain,
In crowded streets, in passing trains.
And every midnight, soft and low,
Returns the things I should outgrow.

I could have burned each photograph,
Erased the echoes of our past.
But love like ours leaves marks too deep,
It follows even into sleep.

And now I walk beside the pain,
Nor ask my soul to heal again.
Some souls keep lingering that way -
Like midnight dreams before the day.

And maybe this is love's true role:
Not letting go, but growing whole.
To wear the hurt and still remain,
And still find beauty in the flame.

~ Asim Baadshah