The Watcher's Heart Poem by Jerome John

She came like morning mist, quiet and unplanned.
A gentle presence, yet it made the world alive.
What started as friendship became a restless flame.
I searched for her shadow in every passing crowd.
Her laughter stayed with me, though I never spoke.

One night I reached, trembling, with fragile hope.
She answered softly, but her heart remained elsewhere.
She gave her all to hold our fragile bond.
I pressed too hard, mistaking longing for true love.
My weight fell heavy, my desire became her cage.

So I withdrew, splitting my soul into pieces.
Nights grew hollow, silence swallowing the empty hours.
Smoke and bottles failed to dull the quiet ache.
Even in crowds, shadows whispered her absent name.
Distance widened, until love became memory's quiet ghost.

Still, I wished her days held brighter sunlight.
Still, I prayed her smile would stay unbroken, gentle.
Perhaps mercy guided the paths that kept us apart.
Perhaps grace spared her from storms I could not bear.
I remained the watcher; she, the light untouchable.

Time passed, yet no heart replaced her quiet warmth.
No arms could hold me the way she once did.
I still imagined her voice in stormed, sleepless nights.
I still dreamed of her hand resting in mine.
Yet love became silence, and silence became my prayer.

Wherever she walks, may kindness walk beside her.
Whoever she loves, may he keep her gentle.
May she be treasured in every way she deserves.
May her life bloom with warmth and quiet joy.
I carry this love, though it speaks no longer.