In quiet hours, where shadows play,
And night folds in the edge of day,
A whisper stirs the depths unseen,
Like moonlight rippling on a dream.

How silence still wakes the deep within me,
A pulse of memory, wild and free.
It beckons from the darkened sea,
A song that hums eternally.

The winds hold back their breath in space,
And time itself begins to trace
The fragile lines of thought and fear,
That once were lost, now crystal clear.

In this stillness, I finally find
The echoes buried in my mind,
A tide that pulls, relentless, strong,
A current where I still belong.

Oh, silence speaks where words have fled,
It stirs the soul, though all seems dead.
How silence wakes the deep within me—
In quiet, I am truly free.