In a quiet valley, where the rivers flow,
a shadow lingers, seeking calm below.
With a weary soul, tender yet worn,
in deep silence, her spirit is reborn.

The flowers whisper secrets in the breeze,
under the sun, their beauty starts to freeze.
A path with no direction, an echo of despair,
where dreams fade gently, hope is rare.

The singing birds know well her hidden pain,
in the blooming fields, her laughter’s lost like rain.
Each place she wanders feels a hollow space,
sadness wraps her tightly in this lonely place.

On starry nights, fear wraps her tight,
as she dreams of drifting into the night.
A world that overlooks her laughter's light,
where echoes of her weeping feel like endless fight.

Yet in the garden still, a spark ignites,
a deep desire for love that shines so bright.
Fragility is strength, a flame that lights the dark,
a longing for tenderness, a gentle spark.

Let them not mock her sorrow kept inside,
nor the battles fought, where her heart has cried.
For in each silent breath, her voice holds tight,
yearning for someone to stand by her side.

If only someone could hear her silent fears,
support her gently, embrace all her tears.
That soul would find solace, peace in their embrace,
and in a sea of warmth, discover a new place.

So under the vast and shared sky’s glow,
her journey weaves through the mist, soft and slow.
One step at a time, through silence unclear,
and in love’s gentle arms, she’ll conquer her fear.

I cannot say if her dreams will come true,
or if she’ll find joy in the things she can do.
But I leave these flowers and words by her side,
for I dream of a dawn where her spirit can glide.
We will meet again, weary soul, take heart
do not give up hope, for this is just the start.


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