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In the Arms of Darkness
Night wraps me softly in her arms,
Whispering secrets, weaving charms.
She cradles echoes in my chest,
A quiet breath, a gentle rest.
Her cloak conceals my hidden scars,
Each one a story traced by stars.
She treads with footsteps calm and slow,
Through empty halls where shadows grow.
By day, she hides behind the sun,
But when the world is overrun,
She dons my borrowed, fragile face,
And offers me her silent grace.
Night knows the thorns beneath the rose,
The slipping joy no one else knows.
She listens close to muted pleas,
Embracing pain with quiet ease.
She gleams with memories deep and old,
And holds the dreams I dare not hold.
In her hush, my voice is slight—
A whispered prayer in endless night.
No bitterness within her reign,
Just soft release from aching pain.
She guards my tether, faint but bright—
My faithful friend in darkest night.
Copyright ©
Rowena Velasco
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