The weight of the day slips out of sight,

No more battles left to fight.

No more voices sharp and loud,

No more needing to make yourself proud.

The hush of night begins to speak,

In whispers soft and silence sleek.

Crickets hum a lullaby tune,

Beneath the quiet silver moon.

No fear remains, no thoughts to keep,

Just the beauty of being asleep.

A drifting heart, a resting soul—

At last, the night has made you whole.