In the depths where light is scarce,
The shadows whisper tales of despair,
A life ensnared in endless night,
Where hope is but a fleeting glare.
The moon, a distant, cold observer,
Watches as dreams shatter and fade,
In this realm where joy is a stranger,
And sorrow is the hand that’s played.
Amidst the silence, cries are stifled,
Hearts beat with a weary thrum,
In the dark, the soul is rifled,
By fears that leave the spirit numb.
Yet, in the blackest of the hours,
A flicker of resilience may ignite,
For even in a life so dark and dour,
There lingers a chance for a glimmer of light.