Whispering Shadows

The sun still shines, yet feels so cold,The world moves on—so I’ve been told.Yet here I sit, with vacant eyes,A prisoner beneath the skies.

The weight of silence drapes like stone,I speak, yet feel I’m all alone.The echoes fade, the walls retreat,My thoughts entangle at my feet.

Each morning’s light, a battle new,A war I fight, yet never view.My hands, they shake, my pulse runs wild,I drown inside, yet force a smile.

The world outside—a grand charade,They dance in gold, I drift in shade.Their laughter rings, like distant chimes,A melody lost to my mind.

I try to rise, my body stays,A silent plea, a heart that frays.A whispered voice, a fleeting spark,A moment stolen from the dark.

Yet even here, where shadows creep,A tiny ember dares to leap.A fragile hope, a quiet breath,That fights to keep me safe from death.

For in the black, where echoes wane,Where sorrow drips like autumn rain,A seed remains beneath the frost,A soul not wholly gone or lost.

I take a step, however small,I face the night, embrace the fall.For though the darkness speaks in lies,A morning waits beyond the skies.