The phone buzzed, news inbound, a grin stretched ear to ear,“Dad-to-be!” the message beamed, excitement, crystal clear.He pictured tiny fingers wrapped around his own, so strong,A future painted rosy-bright, where laughter rang its song.

But then, a text, a different twist, the grin, it quickly died,His world, a vibrant realm, ripped wide open from its side. “Lost,” the word hung heavy, cold, a stone upon his chest,The joy, a fleeting shooting star, replaced by chilling rest.

The sun dipped low, painting the sky in hues of fading light, His heart, a shattered mirror, reflecting endless night.

Tears, like fat raindrops, splashed, soaking the news unread,His dream, a crumpled paperweight, crushing hope instead.

She wasn’t gone to dreamland, no slumber soft and deep, Her laugh, a melody unsung, forever silenced sleep.

The news, a cruel joke’s punchline, twisted, dark, and mean, His future, once a playground fair, became a haunted scene.

He paced the room, a restless ghost, memories sharp and bright, Her touch, a phantom warmth, her smile, a beacon in the night.

He sank beside her empty bed, sheets whispered tales untold, A silent tomb where laughter bloomed, now gripped by winter’s cold.

He closed his eyes, and saw her face, bathed in a golden glow, A love that transcended time, a bond no loss could overthrow.

But then, the grief, a tidal wave, crashed against his soul, And darkness claimed him, vast and deep, a haven to make whole.

The night wore on, a silent film, shadows danced along the wall, Each minute ticked, a hammer blow, that echoed through the hall.

He cried, a broken record stuck, replaying all the pain, His love, a faded photograph, forever etched in rain.

The sun peeked in, a hesitant ray, promising a brand new start, But for him, the light had dimmed, leaving a lonely, aching heart.

He dreamt of her, a shooting star, soaring through the skies, And in that dream, he found his peace, a love that wouldn’t die.

Though tears may fall, and darkness creeps, and shadows fill the air, Their love, a whispered memory, a constant, comforting prayer.

For life’s a tangled journey, with threads that fray and snap, But love’s a golden thread that binds, a promise he’ll hold close in nap.

So let the wind sing lullabies, and stars their vigil keep, As he, in dreams, with her will sleep, and find his solace deep.

For even in the darkest night, when hope seems lost and gone, Love’s embers glow, a guiding light, to lead him till the dawn.