In the shadows where the silence screams, Fibromyalgia's relentless dreams, A spectral pain that never bids adieu, Casting shadows in the morn's weak hue. In the depths of night, you find reprieve, Yet only with pills that grant you leave, Morning breaks with a stiff embrace, As you rise to greet the day's slow pace. The stairs ascend like towering peaks, In rooms where memory fades and leaks, To find the comforts of a simple meal, Amidst the throbbing aches you feel. Your body burns with a ceaseless fire, Mocking wishes that you never tire, The dizzy spells in a spinning room, Capturing moments in a leaden tomb. Each step a trial with breaking flesh, Legs like brittle bones enmesh, Pins and needles, the endless drone, In every muscle, every bone. The ears that ring, the dry-eyed sting, In fatigue's relentless, cloying swing, Yet in this world of endless plight, A warrior's heart still burns so bright.