In the quiet sanctuary of night's embrace,
Lies a haven, a retreat from day's array,
Where souls find solace at close of day.
Soft pillows cradle weary heads,
Blankets cocoon in warmth's soft threads.
Shadows dance on walls so still,
Whispering tales only hearts can feel.
Books rest on shelves, stories untold,
Awaiting minds in a slumber's hold.
A mirror reflects the soul's refrain,
In the quietude where thoughts remain.
From childhood dreams to elder's rest,
A bedroom holds a life's every quest.
Memories linger in scent and sight,
In the corners where day takes flight.
About the Creator
Isra
Versatile writer skilled in both tale & stories. Captivate readers with engaging content & immersive narratives. Passionate about informing, inspiring, & entertaining through words.
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Llion the Brave Version 2
Her screams diminished as Llion was dragged away from the cell. The stench in the corridor was less but there was still damp, decay, defecation, death. His feet dragged, like a raggedy puppet, the guard either side of him holding him fast. He could feel their individual fingers digging into his scant flesh, leaving their impression on his bones.
By Rachel Deeming6 days ago in Fiction
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