In the quiet of the night, whispers of sorrow sing,
Shadows dance with hidden scars, beneath the moon’s pale ring.
Hearts once whole now fractured, in silence they remain,
The echoes of violence linger, a never-ending chain.

Eyes that once sparkled, now dim with silent cries,
For in the wake of violence, innocence slowly dies.
Dreams shattered like glass, hopes buried deep,
In the garden of despair, seeds of fear they reap.

The world turns a blind eye, to the pain within,
The silent screams of victims, drowned by the din.
Hands that once comforted, now tremble in the night,
For violence leaves its mark, a ghostly, haunting blight.

Yet within the darkest hour, a flicker of hope remains,
For even in the silence, love can break the chains.
Together we must stand, to heal the wounds unseen,
To end the cycle of violence, and let the world begin to dream.