In the quiet corners of a child’s room,
Lies the echo of a lullaby sour,
A mother’s voice that once promised blooms,
Now whispers tales of a wilting flower.

Eyes that should shine with tender care,
Instead cast shadows long and deep,
Innocence bruised by the cold glare,
A love that lulls but never sleeps.

Hands that cradle with hidden thorns,
Comfort lost in the façade of smiles,
A heart that weeps, silently mourns,
In the lonely nights that stretch for miles.

Yet in the darkness, hope may rise,
A spirit unbroken, a light reborn,
For even in the bleakest skies,
The dawn awaits to break the scorn.