By Bidita Rahman
Tonight, I set my sorrows gently down,
And let the stars quietly melt my frown.
What once slipped away, I no longer chase,
I welcome this moment with calm dignity.
The past may whisper softly, but cannot remain,
I value its dwelling shadows and turn away.
Beneath the mild moon, my mind finds rest,
I release the past and accept the present.
“Not every wound needs an answer; some simply need the peace of being released.”
