In the hush beneath the stars,
where shadows weave their tales,
a song of silence lingers,
echoing through time's veils.
Remember when the rain
sang on windowpanes,
a melody of solitude,
disguised as gentle pains?
The whispers of forgotten dreams,
threaded in the air,
dance upon the autumn breeze,
a waltz of sweet despair.
Listen close and you might hear,
the silence sing its rhyme,
a symphony of absent notes,
untouched by place or time.