Beatrice's Tears

The softest sobs break from her lips, As if the world had carved a wound too deep. Her eyes, dimmed by sorrows unspoken, Weep in silence beneath a weary sky. The weight of her heart, unseen by all, Pressed like a shadow on her fragile form. Her hands, they tremble, grasping for light, But the darkness swallows all she holds dear. Oh, Beatrice, your tears are the stars, Fallen from heavens that dare not look down. Yet in your grief, there is a quiet strength, A song of the soul that whispers of hope. Let not your sorrow bind you to despair, For even the heaviest night yields to dawn. And though the world may forget your name, Your spirit, Beatrice, will rise again.