At midnight’s hour, the world’s cloaked in night,
Stars twinkle, casting shadows soft and light.
The moon, a beacon in the sky’s deep hue,
Casts silver ribbons on landscapes it imbues.

In low whispers hushed, the nocturnal hum,
Secrets and dreams, as the night sky will drum,
Silence reigns, what a tranquil, hallowed sight,
Tomorrow, we will wait for a new day’s light.

At midnight’s hour, when shadows cloak night,
Hope’s whispered hum prevails in silent flight.
In the quietude where stars cast their glow,
Hope’s constant flame must continue to blow.

The darkest canvas where dreams take their flight,
Hope running forth, a beacon in the night.
Through the depths of darkness, it stands upright,
Guiding hearts through the crowd with gentle light.

Image Credit by Samer Daboul