The Sigh of the Absent Comma

Amid hurried words, a sense astray,
a subtle breath, a silent beat.
The phrase breathes out a destiny betrayed,
for a breath that has not come to stay.
An invisible bridge, never built.

From ink’s dark shadow, a quiet lament,
she watches, sighs, but seeks in vain.
A broken thread, a thought unspent,
in the echo of doubt that hasn’t yet rained.
The rhythm is fractured, the voice more uncertain.

And in the silence that the gap expands,
the meaning twists and stretches wide.
A whole world misunderstood by hands,
for that pause where the soul must abide.
Oh, absent comma, that never answers again.