The wind whispers secrets, low and slow,
Carrying echoes only I can know.
In the silence, shadows start to form,
A tempest rages—my own quiet storm.

Raindrops fall like tears, soft and light,
Tracing paths through the stillness of night.
No thunder breaks, no lightning to see,
Just a battle within—hidden and free.

Waves crash in whispers, tides pull tight,
Swirling thoughts in the depth of the night.
Calm on the surface, beneath lies the fight,
A sea of emotions, dark and bright.

I stand in the eye, watching it swirl,
A dance of chaos in a muted world.
No cries escape, no hand to take,
Just a quiet storm—until I wake.