In the quiet of the night she writes,
Words woven in whispers, tender and bright.
Her pen dances on the edge of dreams,
Love in shadows, or so it seems.

Sylvia’s heart, a tempest of grace,
In the mirror of time, she finds her place.
A love profound, yet tinged with sorrow,
In every line, a hope for tomorrow.

The moonlight casts a gentle glow,
On pages where her passions flow.
Her verses sing of joy and pain,
An eternal dance in love’s refrain.

Through the storm, her spirit flies,
A beacon beneath the endless skies.
In every word, a soul laid bare,
Sylvia’s love, forever there.