In the silence of the evening’s glow,
Where shadows dance in whispered breath,
Emily ponders the gentle flow,
Of time that leads to quiet death.

Her words like echoes softly tread,
Through corridors of thought and grace,
In solitude, where dreams are fed,
She finds her calm, her resting place.

The world outside, a distant hum,
While inner worlds unfold their wings,
In stillness, where the soul becomes,
The poet’s heart serenely sings.

Embracing death not as an end,
But as a friend she long has known,
In verses, where her truths transcend,
Her spirit finds its rightful home.