In the quiet corners of her mind,
Where shadows dance with light,
She cradles dreams untold,
Beneath the weight of night.

The whispers of a tender touch,
A lullaby unsung,
In the depths of solitude,
Where every word is hung.

Her heart, a fragile tapestry,
Woven with threads of pain,
Yet in her eyes, a flicker,
Of hope amidst the rain.

Through the corridors of memory,
She walks a path unknown,
Sylvia, in her motherhood,
Finds strength she’s never shown.