In shadows cast by the waning moon,
A symphony of sorrow begins to croon.
Beneath the weight of a heavy heart,
A tapestry of pain, a tragic art.
Silent screams echo in the night,
A soul entangled in a web so tight.
Whispers of anguish, a mournful song,
In the heart’s abyss, where shadows throng.
A palette of gray paints the sky,
Tears of sorrow, the clouds do cry.
Each droplet, a memory etched in pain,
A relentless storm, an endless rain.
Bleeding hues of a love now lost,
In the graveyard of dreams, emotions tossed.
Petals of hope, crushed and torn,
In the garden of despair, they’re born.
The ache, a relentless, gnawing ache,
A symphony of heartstrings about to break.
Echoes of laughter, now distant cries,
In the hollow chambers where loneliness lies.
Wounds unseen, but deeply felt,
A silent plea for the cards to be dealt.
Crimson rivers through veins do flow,
A testament to a soul’s ebb and woe.
In the mirror, reflections of shattered grace,
A mask worn tight, a stoic face.
Yet, behind those eyes, a tempest roars,
A tempest of anguish that endlessly soars.