The still silence of the freshly dug grave,
Where secrets rest, concealed from mortal sight,
And whispers of the wind cease to behave,
As darkness claims its realm, devoid of light.
Within this void, where echoes softly fade,
Lies the enigma of life's final breath,
The poignant hush that lingers unafraid,
While mysteries of existence conquer death.
Yet, from this void, a paradox takes flight,
For in the darkest depths, hope may arise,
A flicker, like a solitary light,
To guide the lost, where solace harmonizes.
In stillness and in darkness, truth is sought,
Revealing treasures by the depths of thought.
- Willisha