In shadows deep where guilt does creep, The restless souls find slumber steep. They lie in beds of threadbare dreams, While moonlight casts its mournful beams. The crime they’ve wrought, a silent scream, A stain upon their midnight theme. Yet come the night, their eyes must close, And in their minds, the darkness grows. Each breath a whisper of their plight, Each heartbeat echoes through the night. In dreams, they wander, lost and cold, Haunted by the tales untold. Beneath the stars, their fears collide, No peace within, no place to hide. For in their , the past’s refrain Replays the echoes of their stain. The quiet night, a veil so thin, Can't shield them from the wars within. And as they drift to restless rest, The weight of deeds lies in their chest. ©twisha ray

twisha ray