**Iron verse for a false dawn — Takis Chronopoulos ©**
She spoke of love with a fractured pulse and a drifting tongue
testing devotion through shifting tempests,
feeding her thirst for validation through wandering men
figures without marrow, figures without honor, nor flame
calling their noise affection,
naming their presence truth,
demanding steadiness while surrendering essence to fleeting echoes
Nights carved scars across my stride
doubt pressed its burning seal
promises trembled in their own weakness,
corridors of hesitation stretched without mercy
pain forged its verdict
silence rose with sovereign weight
Now the door stands shut
clarity reigns
bitterness dissolves
her voice sinks beyond my horizon
confusion loses its grip
longing breaks its claim
Forward moves a clean heart and an unbroken stride
behind remains a figure speaking of love without knowing its cost
mistaking attention for truth
erased from my path.
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