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Poem

When twilight spills its ink across the skies,
And silence tiptoes through the weary trees,
The stars unveil their secrets in disguise,
Whispered in hush beneath the evening breeze.
The day’s last breath clings gently to the air,
A golden thread unspooled from sunlit loom,
While night ascends the throne with solemn flair,
And bathes the world in velvet’s soft perfume.
Yet in the hush, the heart begins to roam—
Recalling touch and voices lost in mist,
Each memory a light that calls it home,
A ghost of warmth the darkness can't resist.
Though night may fall and shadows hold their sway,
Hope flickers still, awaiting break of day.

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