In the shadows of stressful days, we tread,
The weight of worries, like stones, we bear,
Each sigh a whisper of the mind’s silent dread,
In silent rooms, we search for air.
The clock’s hands move with relentless pace,
As thoughts spiral in chaotic dance,
Seeking solace in a crowded space,
Yet finding none in the hurried glance.
Night falls, but sleep is a distant star,
As restless dreams weave their tangled thread,
The heart beats fast, a silent war,
In the quiet, fears are fed.
Yet in the morning light’s gentle embrace,
A fragile hope begins to bloom,
For in each day’s new, untrodden space,
Lies the promise of peace amid the gloom.