In the quiet chambers of her mind,
Where shadows whispered tales untold,
Sylvia sat with her thoughts aligned,
In a solitude, both vast and cold.
Her pen danced on paper, a silent scream,
Inking the void with her silent rage,
Loneliness wrapped her like a dream,
Trapped in the confines of her own cage.
Each word a mirror to her soul’s despair,
Reflecting the echoes of her silent cries,
Her heart bared and raw, beyond repair,
Underneath the façade of tranquil skies.
Yet in her loneliness, a spark did gleam,
A beacon of truth in her pain’s embrace,
Sylvia, in her solitude, found a dream,
A solace, a refuge, in her quiet space.