Echos of Pain

It stays deep in the silence of the evening. 

a whispered shadow where the heartbeats weep. 

Sounds of loss, a constant rain, 

Through veins, the essence of suffering. 

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A wordless cry in the profound blackness leaves a scorching sharp mark. 

Tears invisible in the hug of the eyes, 

a secret grief carved on the face. 

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It covers the soul like a gray cloak, transforming brilliant dawn into a tired day. 

Every stride onward, a hefty pull across the bog where spirits sink. 

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Dreams once vivid now fell from a thorny crown; memories distorted. 

Every heartbeat brings a pulsating agony, 

a flimsy smile, a try at imitation. 

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Still, a flutter of what might be exists in the depths of this unbounded sea. 

a strength developed on the flame of the furnace, 

a strong heart not fixed in nature. 

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For pain, although terrible, can also shape, 

a soul to be courageous, a heart to be strong. 

Following that, a fresh dawn might blossom. 

Via worn-out eyes and tear-stained cheeks. 

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Thus, knowing its path is not without grace; we offer quiet welcome to grief. 

For in our darkness we discover our brightness. 

evidence of relentless struggle.