In the silent whispers of a melancholy eve,
Shadows dance where light dares not weave.
The heart in solitude finds its solemn song,
In the realm where memories belong.

The moon, a silent guardian of the night,
Casts a silver glow, gentle and bright.
Yet beneath its tender, luminescent sheen,
Lies a sorrow, unseen but keen.

The breeze carries tales of days gone by,
Of laughter lost, and tears that dry.
In the stillness, the soul does yearn,
For moments past, for love’s return.

Yet in this quiet, a truth does reside,
That within the pain, strength can hide.
For in the dance of dark and light,
We find our way, through the night.