The heart's silent tremor before it breaks,
The shadows left by each choice it makes;
A whispered doubt, a fleeting thrill--
The soul alone can hold them still.
Moments unlived in quiet repose,
The dreams abandoned when sorrow rose,
The nights adrift on a restless tide,
Where truths of the heart and fear collide.
The questions lingered, left unasked,
The wounds endured beneath the mask;
For eyes may see but not reveal
The edges softened only to heal.
These are the pieces no song will sing,
Nor tales recount, nor poets bring;
They live in silence, deep and wide--
In the soul’s vast sea, they ebb and hide.
Apple Beth, 2024