In the quiet corners of the mind,
Words dance like shadows on the wall,
Each verse a gentle whisper,
Echoing through the silent hall.

Lines weave through dreams untold,
Painting skies with hues of gold,
In every heartbeat, a sonnet sings,
Of love, of loss, of boundless things.

Poetry, a bridge across time,
Where souls converse in endless rhyme,
A tapestry of thoughts unfurled,
Connecting hearts in a wordless world.

Through the tapestry of night and day,
The poet’s pen finds its way,
Crafting worlds from ink and light,
In the endless dance of black and white.