In the heart of the midnight hour,
Where whispers of sorrow devour,
Lies a realm where shadows play,
And darkness turns night to day.

Pain drips like ink from a quill,
Each drop, a tormenting thrill,
Carving scars upon the soul,
Leaving voids that never console.

The silence, a deafening scream,
Echoes through a haunted dream,
Where hope fades like a dying star,
And light seems ever so far.

Yet in this abyss, a seed may grow,
From the tears that endlessly flow,
For even in the darkest night,
A flicker of dawn brings light.