In the quiet hours of the night, where shadows softly creep,
A restless mind begins to stir, awakening from sleep.
Thoughts like whispers in the wind, they circle and entwine,
A dance of worry and of doubt, a tangled, silent line.

The heart beats faster in the chest, a drum that knows no rest,
Each echo like a haunting call, a phantom’s sole behest.
Eyes wide open, searching through the dark for some relief,
But shadows deepen all around, companions of belief.

A whispered voice that softly speaks, yet echoes in the hall,
It tells of fears both old and new, it builds a heavy wall.
The world outside feels far away, a distant, fading view,
While inside spins a storm of thoughts, both many and too few.

But in the dawn, a gentle light begins to break the hold,
A promise of a new day’s warmth, a story yet untold.
Though whispers linger in the mind, and shadows softly sigh,
The heart finds strength to beat anew beneath the morning sky.