In the quiet of the night, pain softly speaks,
A language only the heart can truly hear,
Whispers of shadows, where sorrow seeks,
And every tear becomes a mirror clear.
Beneath the stars, where dreams once danced,
Now lingers the echo of a broken tune,
A melody of loss, deeply entranced,
Under the watchful, indifferent moon.
The soul’s landscape, a barren, endless field,
Where memories, like ghosts, silently roam,
Each step forward, a wound unhealed,
In a place once called home.
Yet amidst the ruins, hope dares to rise,
A tender flame, against the nightâs embrace,
For even in sorrow, love never truly dies,
Leaving traces of light, in the darkest place.