The Sonnet of Shadows

The velvet hush conceals a secret key,

A minor chord that shivers through the bone.

The candle bends its flame to follow me,

Its flicker stirs the dark I call my own.

The tenor sax exhales a ghost of flame,

Its smoke drifts close, a whisper on the skin.

The mirror waits yet never speaks a name,

It shows the face of shadows kept within.

A teardrop falls and stains the waiting glass,

The rhythm haunts, uncertain yet it stays.

Each note becomes a shadow as they pass,

Still circling low beneath the amber haze.

For silence tells the truths we cannot hide,

And through its hush the buried self survives.