In the hush of solitude, a whisper sharp, The siren song of steel, a tender scar, It calls to shadows where the lost hearts weep, And with each cry, the night becomes more deep. "I'm sorry," I breathe to the whispered pain, For every clash of thunder in my rain. Yet in this storm, I seek a dawn's embrace, To find the warmth beyond this chilling place. Hold on, dear soul, to morning's healing light, For even in the darkest hour, there's flight.