In the quiet of the night, where silence sings,
Angels weave their whispers into our dreams.
They glide with grace on gossamer wings,
Painting the night with celestial beams.

Beneath the stars, their voices softly call,
Guiding lost souls through the shadowed night.
Their gentle presence, a celestial thrall,
Filling hearts with hope and pure delight.

In moments of doubt, they stand by our side,
With gentle hands, they lift our burdened hearts.
Their love, a beacon, in which we confide,
Mending the soul where life’s sorrow imparts.

As dawn breaks, their whispers fade away,
Yet their light remains in the heart’s embrace.
Through every trial, come what may,
Angels guard us with their tender grace.