In the hush of night, silent cinders gleam,
Whispering secrets of a forgotten dream.
Embers dance in shadows, a flickering light,
Revealing tales of the silent night.
Each ash a memory, fading into the dark,
Lost in the whispers of a distant spark.
Silent cinders, soft and still,
Hold the power of a dormant will.
In their gentle glow, we find solace,
A quiet reminder of our inner promise.
To rise from the ashes, to ignite anew,
To find our voices, to speak what is true.
So let the cinders speak their silent tale,
A poetry of whispers that will prevail.
For in their quietude, we find our voice,
In the silent cinders, we rejoice.
