In the darkest corners where shadows play,
Lies the echo of hearts in disarray.
The scars of silence, the wounds unseen,
Paint a portrait of where pain has been.

Beneath the veil of a serene facade,
Lurks the tempest, fierce and marred.
Each tear a testament to battles fought,
In the war of whispers, silently caught.

The silent cries, they pierce the night,
A symphony of a muted plight.
In the stillness, the violence brews,
A hidden storm in shades of blues.

Yet through the chaos, hope remains,
A flicker in the heart’s deep veins.
For in each whispered cry, a strength is born,
To break the chains and brave the morn.