All the hidden wounds will heal one day,
like whispers lost in morning's ray.
The silent ache, the uncried tears,
will vanish with the passing years.

The scars will fade, their stories dim,
like echoes sung in twilight's hymn.
No longer will the past hold tight,
for love will bathe you in its light.

The pain will bow, then take its leave,
no longer shadows heave and weave.
No longer storms will haunt your skies,
but gentle dawns with golden eyes.

And happiness, so soft, so true,
will bloom within, will dance with you.
A guest no more, but home to stay,
to paint your heart in hues of May.

For you were made for love alone,
not endless nights of ache and stone.
Your heart was shaped by hands divine,
a sacred place where stars align.

So hush, dear soul, the time will come
when sorrow sings its final drum.
And love will stand, arms open wide,
to claim its place, forever inside.