Days

Days are quieter, soft and slow,
Time to breathe, to heal, to grow.
Nights for thinking, skies ink-deep,
Words to write, and wounds to keep.

Thoughts are clearer, skies unclouded,
No whispered lies or truths shrouded.
No hidden storms behind a smile,
Just morning peace that stays a while.

Eyes are drier — no regret,
No tears for what I haven’t met.
No longing laughs that never came,
No faces shifting into blame.

Afternoons drift soft and wide,
No one to please, no need to hide.
Nature sings in gentle tone,
And for the first time — I’m my own.

The sea lies still, the current mild,
No crashing waves, no chaos wild.
The water’s clear, the silence sweet,
And peace comes crashing at my feet.

No echoes call from distant pain,
No masks to wear, no need to feign.
Just me, my truth, no debt to pay
And calm to close another day.