A Heart Felt Portrait

In the hush of solitude's soft embrace, where shadows play and light caresses, A lone figure holds a quiet grace, her silent mien the world addresses. Her skin, a parchment of life's unseen script, cradles dreams folded tight, A solitary moment, deeply inscript, within the frame of gentle light. She is the quiet poem of an Eastern night, a silent ode to the unsung, Her form, a stanza of the soul's quiet fight, where heavy hearts have hung. In her repose, a universe whispers of tales both joyous and grim, A portrait painted in the quietest hues, on the cusp of twilight's dim. She, a muse of life's complexity, in silent thought does she reside, A tribute to the strength of introspection, where poets' truths abide. In her embrace, a world unfolds, where silent words are understood, A living verse, a story told, in the beauty of quietude.