Her voice, a fragile melody unsung,
Each note a whisper, caught upon her tongue.
Stripped bare by careless words, a constant fray,
Her truths like petals, blown and far away.

The brimming cup, where feelings gathered deep, A silent language that her heart would keep. For every plea, a wall of vacant air,
For every reaching hand, no solace there.

Over the din, her small attempts would fade,
Against the tide, her quiet strength decayed.
A gentle nudge became a push aside,
Her presence muted, nowhere left to hide.

The background hues began to feel like home,
A space unseen, where she could softly roam.
The urgent cry, the tremor in her breast,
Familiar silence put her fears to rest.

Why break the habit of the unheard plea?
Why fight for rescue, when there's no decree
That anyone will heed the desperate sound?
Lost in the echoes, where no help is found.

So in the shadows, comfort took its hold,
A story whispered, never to be told.
The quiet corner, where her spirit lay,
Accustomed now, to fading through the day.