In the tapestry of whispered words,Where kindness wears a fragile thread,The heart remains an open book,Yet pages turn by unseen hands.Promises like petals fall,Scattered by the whims of need,In gardens where the sun is masked,The flowers bloom in borrowed light.Echoes of a gentle soul,Reflect in eyes that seek to find,A haven where the truth can rest,Yet silence holds the stronger bind.In shadows where intentions hide,The lines of trust begin to blur,Yet through the dusk, a voice will rise,To claim the dawn and break the lure.