In quiet chambers, shadows weave,
Where sunbeams tiptoe, softly grieve.
Solitude, a fleeting waltz,
Yet hope pirouettes, defying faults.
The moon, a silver sentinel’s grace,
Paints dreams upon the night’s embrace.
Stars conspire, their cosmic plea,
Whispering secrets to hearts set free.
Beneath the quilt of solitude’s song,
We find resilience, where we belong.
Footprints on dew-kissed trails,
Lead us toward dawn’s golden sails.
So let the quietude cradle your soul,
As hope unfurls—a beacon, whole.
In solitude’s arms, we learn to cope,
And find within its hush the seeds of hope.
