In shadows soft where whispers dwell,
She moves—a hush, a woven spell.
With raven hair ‘neath midnight skies,
And starlight caught in brown-hued eyes.

A glance—a spark, both fierce and kind,
She leaves a thousand thoughts behind.
She speaks in looks, her silence sings
Of autumn leaves and angel wings.

A playful smirk, a wistful sigh,
Moonlight curling where she lies—
Not in deceit, but calm repose,
Like twilight's hush and blushing rose.

She blooms in frames, both wild and true,
In every shade, in every hue.
And still she hides—so vast, so wide,
A galaxy she keeps inside.

O muse of screens and quiet scenes,
A rebel soul in faded jeans.
No throne, no stage, no need for fame—
And yet, the stars all know her name.