In The Quiet That Found Him

He sat where the world forgot to speak,  

beneath a sky of borrowed gold,  

where still waters cradled light  

And every breath felt centuries old.  

The trees stood like sentinels of calm,  

their shadows long, their whispers deep,  

and time—for once—unclenched its grip,  

allowing broken hearts to sleep.  

In mirrored sky and hush of green,  

He shed the names the world had called,  

and in that fragile, glowing hush,  

The weight he bore began to fall.  

A tear, not born from grief but grace,  

slipped down a cheek warmed by the breeze—  

for beauty, quiet, and complete,  

had knelt his restlessness to ease.  

And though the world would call him back,  

With all its noise, its push, its climb,  

He’d carry still this silent place  

Within the marrow of his time.  

 ~ €mpêråtrïzV

 ~ Copyright ©EmperatrizV @Sunflower for Emily,   29June 2025 - All Rights Reserved