Forte

In the hush of evening’s muted gleam,
My forte blooms like twilight’s shy refrain,
A steady chord that breaks the dream,
A quiet power that eases pain.

It is not the shout of brass nor drum,
But the soft persistence of a heart that knows,
The gentle strength where courage hums,
And steadfast hope in every throe.

So let the world applaud the loud,
Yet honour this—my inner forte,
A humble flame, a silent crowd,
That lights the path when doubts entrust.