In my heart, the tears do call,
Each drop that falls, the heavens' thrall.
A whisper soft, a silent cry,
As if the soul would dare to fly.

In my gaze, the storm is stirred,
A spark of truth, a flash, a word.
It bends the soul, ignites the night,
And leads it through the realm of light.

In shadows deep, their secrets weave,
The night, a veil that dawns deceive.
Yet truth remains, though veiled, unseen,
In every hue, in what has been.

It’s not in notes that rise and fall,
But in the silence, beyond them all.
Where stillness breathes, the soul takes seat,
In beats unspoken, soft, complete.

In twilight’s glow, desires fade,
A fleeting flame, now softly laid.
Yet in its ashes, pure and true,
The soul's own fire is born anew