In the still of the night

In the still of the night, where shadows weave, She sits alone, her heart in grief, A silent plea, a whispered sigh, For solace in the midnight sky. Her arms are marred, a canvas torn, A story written, wounds forlorn, Each line a trace of battles fought, In silent wars that peace forgot. The mirror shows a fractured face, Her eyes reflect a hollow space, She wonders why the pain won’t cease, Why guilt and sorrow never leave. She yearns for dawn, a brand-new light, To guide her through the endless night, To find the strength to let it go, And heal the scars she’s come to know. With trembling hands, she seeks to mend, To find a voice, to learn to blend, The shattered pieces of her soul, To stitch the gaps and make her whole. But in her heart, a whisper calls, "Forgive yourself for every fall, For every scar that’s etched in skin, A chance to start again within." In the quiet, she’ll learn to see, The strength in every broken plea, And though the journey’s steep and long, She’ll find the peace to carry on