In the still of night, shadows dance with fright,
Hearts tremble under the moon’s cold light.
Echoes of violence whisper through the air,
Leaving scars of sorrow, a silent despair.

The cries of the broken, a symphony of pain,
Dreams shattered, like glass in the rain.
Silent screams, unheard by the dawn,
As violence weaves its tapestry, forlorn.

Beneath the cloak of darkness, fear resides,
Innocence lost, where brutality hides.
Each wound, a story of anguish untold,
In the heart’s deepest chamber, bitter and cold.

Yet in the bleakness, hope’s ember may ignite,
A whisper of peace, in the dead of night.
For even in violence, a yearning for love,
Can break the chains, lifting souls above.