A Heart Half-Hid

In quiet rooms, I learned to dwell,

Where whispered words alone

could tell

Of shadows soft, of hands

withdrawn,

Of voices hushed before the dawn.

I traced the lines on silent walls,

Where echoes rest and daylight

stalls.

I grew in corners dim and small,

Where laughter fades and

footsteps fall.

A glance that drifted far from me,

A warmth I knew but could not see-

Yet still I waited, slight and still,

For moments touched by unseen

will.

I wore the quiet like a cloak,

In borrowed light, I dreamed and

woke,

A shadow's child, a leaf unturned,

A distant fire never burned.

The years fell soft, like whispered

rain,

Each one a thread in mute refrain,

And though I walked where others

tread,

My voice was low, my spirit bled.

In hidden halls, I lingered long,

Half-bound in place, half-drawn to

song,

A spirit dim, yet bright with plea-

In dreams, would someone look for

me?