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In a somber house on Maple Street, where shadows creep,
Lived Lily, a child, in silence she'd weep.
With every creak of the floorboards at night,
She'd hold her breath, gripped by fright.

Mr. Johnson, her father, a looming figure of dread,
Cast a pall over the home, filling it with dread.
His anger raged like a storm, leaving scars unseen,
And Lily's heart ached with a pain so keen.

From her room, she'd hear the muffled cries,
As her parents' voices soared to the skies.
Her tiny heart heavy with a burden unknown,
In a world of darkness, she felt so alone.

Day by day, the gloom thickened its hold,
And Lily's spirit, once bright, grew cold.
No laughter, no joy, just a deepening gloom,
In the silent confines of her lonely room.

Playing with dolls, in a world of pretend,
But the echoes of anguish would never end.
She longed for a ray of hope, a glimmer of light,
But in the depths of despair, it was out of sight.

One night, as the tumult reached its peak,
Lily's voice rose, a fragile streak.
She pleaded with her father, her eyes full of fear,
But his rage consumed him, drawing near.

"Daddy, stop!" she cried, her voice a plea,
But in the darkness, there was no reprieve.
And as she watched her mother's tears fall,
Lily felt her own spirit crumble and stall.

In the morning's chill, her mother worn and gray,
Held Lily close, with nothing left to say.
No words could mend the brokenness inside,
As they faced another day, filled with strife.

With each passing moment, the darkness grew,
And Lily's hope faded, her dreams askew.
In a world devoid of light, she wandered lost,
Her innocence shattered, her spirit tossed.

But in the depths of despair, a flicker remained,
A tiny ember in a heart so pained.
For even in the darkest night, a glimmer of hope,
Could illuminate the path, help her cope.

So let this tale be a reminder, a guiding light,
That even in darkness, there's still fight.
For in the depths of despair, there's strength to be found,
And hope can rise from the darkest ground.
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