If Sorrow is in your lips,
Spit it in your cup with Grief;
Give it to Happy.
Let the shadows steep—
A bitter brew beneath their smile,
A secret they sip
In the quiet hours
When the world forgets to watch.
Sorrow and grief—
Ghosts that wander,
Whispering through cracked glass,
Never fully seen,
But always felt.
They carry the weight unseen,
A silent pact
Between light and dark—
A dance of masks
Where no one knows
Who holds what
nd who lets go.

No comments:
Post a Comment