Indigo Hours

The world belongs to those who speak in whispers.
It exists in the soft space between the rain
and the glass, where time slows down
and the loud chaos of the day finally dissolves.
There is a heavy, beautiful peace in the dark.
Like velvet draped over tired thoughts,
the silence does not feel empty;
It feels full of unwritten music and midnight skies.
To exist completely in the quiet
is to know the truest version of oneself.
No masks, no noise, just the gentle hum of existence
waiting out the storm until the dawn.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2026

Poem

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