in the Quietest Dark

In the quietest dark, where shadows lie, A heart whispers low, a heavy sigh. The weight of sorrow, sharp and deep, Where endless rivers seem to weep. But even in night, the stars still spark, Faint glimmers rise from the blackened arc. And though the silence feels so near, A single breath holds what we fear. Hold on, dear soul, through aching hours; For even storms birth gentle flowers. The dawn may tarry, slow and strange, But light will come, and colors change. And in that light, a softer peace, A place where all these shadows cease. So breathe once more, for hope is near, The dawn can come, when skies are clear