In the quiet of a starless night,
A whisper drifts, soft and light.
An echo of words left unsaid,
Lingering where dreams have fled.
It dances through the empty air,
A fleeting trace of what was there.
A voice that never found its place,
Now lost in time, without a trace.
The silence grows, yet still it speaks,
Of hidden hopes and secret peaks.
A song unsung, a tear unseen,
In shadows where the soul has been.
And though the echo fades away,
Its silent message seems to stay.
A reminder that in quiet's grip,
There’s more than words upon the lips.