In the silence of the night, the heart does speak,
Whispers of hurt like echoes in the dark,
Beneath the stars, where shadows softly creak,
Lies a tale of wounds that leave their mark.

The moonlight dances on tears unshed,
As memories linger in the cold night air,
Words unspoken, and dreams that bled,
Paint a canvas of sorrow and despair.

Yet in the quiet, a strength unfolds,
A gentle courage that softly weaves,
Threads of hope through stories untold,
Healing the heart that silently grieves.

For even in hurt, there blooms a light,
A promise of dawn in the darkest night,
And though the shadows may still take flight,
The spirit endures, ready to ignite.