Ink of Pain: A Poem of Healing

In the depths of night, where shadows creep,

I dip my quill in tears, in memories steeped.

Each stroke a sigh, each word a bane,

Yet through the ache, I find my refrain.

Ink spills like blood upon the page,

Echoing the storms that rage.

But amidst the darkness, a flicker, a spark,

As I weave my sorrow into art.

With each verse, I shed my skin,

Releasing the ghosts that dwell within.

Through the valleys of despair I roam,

Finding solace in this ink-stained tome.

For pain is not a foe to dread,

But a companion on this journey tread.

In the depths of sorrow, I find my light,

Guided by the stars that pierce the night.

So let the wounds bleed onto paper bare,

For in the writing, I find repair.

In the dance of letters, I find release,

And in the poetry of pain, I find peace.