In the quiet of the night, a whisper grows,
A gentle sigh beneath the weight of stars,
Where loneliness in silent echoes flows,
And darkness heals with tender, unseen scars.

The heart, a vessel of forgotten dreams,
Finds solace in the moon’s soft, silver glow,
Through endless tides of silent, shadowed streams,
Where whispered winds of sorrow gently blow.

In solitude, the soul begins to wander,
Through paths of memories lost, yet sweet,
A dance of thoughts that drift and softly ponder,
In shadows where the heart and silence meet.

Yet in the depth of night, a light may dawn,
A gentle flame within the weary chest,
To guide the soul through whispers of the gone,
And find, in shadows, a place of quiet rest.