Beneath the Quiet Sky

 Beneath the Quiet Sky

Arman Rashid

Beneath the quiet sky, I walk alone,

the air is soft, the world is still.

Clouds drift slowly like forgotten dreams,

carrying whispers I cannot keep.

The trees sway gently in the evening light,

their leaves telling stories to the wind.

I pause and listen to the silence,

feeling the weight of all I’ve lost.

The sun leans low, painting the sky in gold,

its warmth fading into the night.

I remember laughter that once filled the air,

and promises spoken we could not hold.

Birds return to their hidden nests,

their wings slicing through the fading day.

A distant river hums quietly,

taking pieces of me I cannot reclaim.

I think of faces I have loved,

of words left unspoken, moments missed.

The first stars appear shyly,

tiny fires lighting the deep blue above.

I breathe in the night, letting it fill me,

letting silence speak louder than words.

I feel small, yet somehow endless,

part of something bigger than I can name.

Beneath the quiet sky, I learn:

even in darkness, love leaves a trace.