Late night, a shroud of sorrow draped,
As shadows in my heart have deeply seeped,
The world in slumber, stars softly weep,
In the silence, my wounded soul is shaped.

The moon above, a pale and mournful face,
Casts a gentle glow on my tear-streaked space,
The night, a canvas for my thoughts to trace,
In the solitude, I seek a tender grace.

The weight of...