While the World Sleeps

While the World Sleeps

The world sleeps, quiet and still,

while the stars hold their glow,

and the moon keeps watch,

silent, steady, alone.

Shadows stretch without sound,

streets hum beneath silver light,

hearts rest beneath a gentle sky,

waiting for morning to rise.

Curtains draw across tired rooms,

clocks count hours no one sees,

lamps fade behind shuttered glass,

and thoughts drift far from today.

The wind hums low along empty lanes,

passing doors and quiet signs,

as dreams slip through restless minds,

searching for something to hold.

The night keeps its steady guard,

neither harsh nor kind,

just a keeper of time and space,

letting the hours move by.

Far above where no voice can reach,

the stars refuse to fade,

steadfast in their place,

while the moon turns slow and sure.

No promise breaks this quiet scene,

no hands reach through the dark,

only quiet lives beneath the sky,

held in the arms of sleep.

And when dawn breaks across the roofs,

the moon will take its leave,

the stars will fold away their light,

and the world will wake once more.