The Unwritten Soul

In silence deep, where shadows sleep,

There waits a truth we never speak.

A voice unheard, a tale untold,

The pages blank, the ink grown cold.

The unwritten soul walks through the night,

No name, no face, no clear birthright.

It longs to feel, to dream, to be,

Unshaped by time, yet yearning free.

Not bound by rules, nor carved in stone,

It drifts through worlds it’s never known.

A whisper lost within the breeze,

A candle dimmed by memories.

What stories hide behind its eyes?

What battles fought? What quiet cries?

No hand has traced its sacred line,

No poet dared to make it mine.

Yet still it shines, a distant flame,

Not seeking glory, voice, or name.

A mirror held to those who know—

The deepest truths, we never show.

So let it rest, untouched and whole,

This quiet light, this unwritten soul.

For not all tales are meant to be,

Some live in hearts, eternally.